A Journey Begins
by RivLee
Summary: Pre, during, and post events concerning The Hobbit from Imladris and Mirkwood. TA 2940 To 2942. Seventh in Legend, Lore, and Lullabies. AU, Het and OC.
1. With A Single Step

**Disclaimer: Tolkien and co own it all.**

**A Journey Begins**

Seventh Story in Legend, Lore, and Lullabies.

_**Chapter One: With A Single Step**_

_It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end_.

-Ursula K. LeGuin

**_TA 2940, Minas Tirith, Gondor_**

The party from Imladris had been in Gondor for barely a month and the four elves had already found themselves desiring a trip home. It was not so much the ever oppressive air surrounding the city, or the tangible fear of the people, or the suspicious looks around every corner. It was not the way Baineth and Morwen were so easily dismissed because they were female or how Thandrog and Elrohir were dismissed because they were too young (a statement which Thandrog had felt the need to address stating loudly and clearly just how many years, collectively, the party had spent on Arda) nor was it the fear of attack from the sea or the heavy setting cuisine. No, it was more the simple and honest fact that none of the four elves had any idea why they had been called here. For whatever reason it was, it was not to openly seek out the advice of Imladris. The only thing Morwen had been allowed to advise on was the selection of robe colors for Thandrog.

The group currently sat gathered, in all their brooding glory, at one of the more respectable taverns of the city and one of the rare few who did not mind the elven newcomers. The patrons and the workers were always polite in their questions to the elves and often loved to hear them singing or to hear their tales. One nice tavern, however, did not a welcoming city make and left the elves contemplating their current state.

Elrohir sat beside Baineth, his hair unbound and enjoying the wind that blew through it. He had spent a good portion of the day running up and down the city, waiting at gates and usually climbing over or through them in his impatience for the gatekeepers to open the locks. Rather than proving he was as surly as he currently appeared, Elrohir had chosen to spend the evening in silent contemplation. Baineth sat beside him, tugging on the sleeves of her dress, used to having her arms bare in uniform. Bare female arms, however, was frowned upon here and Baineth found herself still adjusting to the limited movement the sleeves placed on her. Morwen was equally uncomfortable in the heavy robes used to mark her position while in Minas Tirith. The fabric was far from light and much more ornate than anything Morwen would bother to wear and while it had been designed for males, that was not so much the problem as it had been designed for human males of Minas Tirith who were generally shorter in stature than female elves. None was as uncomfortable as Thandrog, currently in robes, something he had never worn, who had to appear as Morwen's assistant and not the warrior he truly was. Thandrog was still amazed how a simple outfit and hairstyle change could make the people of Gondor believe he was a different elf. A different elf they still did not desire to speak with.

"I do not know why they dislike me so very much." Thandrog complained as he tried to adjust the robes around his legs.

Elrohir raised his head from the table and smiled, "Yes, well, saying upon arrival into the city 'I think I should be more impressed' does not often endear one to the natives."

"Though it makes us laugh every time we think about it." Baineth said.

Thandrog sat back in the chair, scratching at the unfamiliar robes he wore, "It was an honest assessment."

"They have imminent attacks on all sides, Thandrog, you cannot expect them to be so concerned with the mere upkeep of a city." Morwen insisted looking down from one of the upper-levels of Minas Tirith, though even she had to admit the city could do with some cleaning. Or some oil for the hinges of the gates, eight levels and all made horrible sounds when the gates were pulled back.

"Tirnion got out while he still could." Thandrog said, remembering their friend who had accompanied them to Gondor's borders before turning back and heading to his own realm. "He knew better than to deal with these far from talkative folk." he said.

Baineth ran a hand over her face and yawned, bored in this realm that let her do little, "Thandrog, I have the oddest feeling that even if you were not known for your careless comment they still would not speak with you. They all seem to dislike our presence."

"Dislike may not be the best word, suspicious, suspicious works best. We are unknown, we are beings of legend, we are not the normal guests of this city." Elrohir said as he took a long sip from his glass.

The others nodded at Elrohir's words. Baineth pulled out a deck of cards from her dress, the only thing she enjoyed about the clothing was the secret compartments Thandrog had sewn within the long sleeves. Elrohir leaned across her to cut the deck and so began yet another game between the group, the only thing they could find to pass the time until they were approached for the council meeting. Here they still used messengers to signal the start of a meeting rather than the bells used in Imladris or the Havens.

Thandrog shuffled through the cards in his hand and asked Elrohir, "Have you sent out the package to Imladris yet?"

Elrohir put two cards down onto the table before pulling two new ones from the deck. He glanced up at Thandrog, "I sent it out three days ago, you would have known had you bother to help me with delivering all the messages."

Thandrog laughed, "Oh, is someone tired?" he taunted before letting out a yelp as Morwen slapped the side of his head.

"Thandrog, be respectful at the very least. You could be the one running around the city." Morwen chastised him.

Pulling on the high neck of his robes Thandrog sighed, "I would rather do such a thing if it meant I could breathe easier."

"Ah, but your dainty feet would be tired from all the running and climbing and we know how much you dislike calluses on your feet." Baineth said with a smirk.

Morwen shook her head, "Stop taunting each other, as amusing as it us, I do believe those listening in our conversation will not understand our friendly sarcasm. We must not confuse them and give them more reason for gossip."

"Oh, but the rumors are indeed so humorous." Thandrog said. "Did you know, you and Elrohir have three love children and are here because you are hiding from your true spouses?"

Elrohir smiled across the table at Morwen, "Such a seductive temptress you are, dragging me to this city only to cast me off for Thandrog." Elrohir said as he addressed some of the more colorful rumors swirling around them.

Morwen looked down at her cards, "That is most peculiar, since I heard I had sucked the soul out of both of you and was sharing my power with Baineth so that we could take control of the city."

The other occupants at the table laughed and the musical sound of their joy made many of the inhabitants stop in their daily tasks as they took in the incredible sight and sound of four joyful elves.

* * *

_**Imladris, Winter, TA 2940**_

Glorfindel leaned back against one of the massive oak trees as he instructed Estel on his swordplay. Thalion, visiting from the Havens, perched on his knees as he blocked Estel's blows. It was heartwarming for Glorfindel, to see his former student with his new one, to see the very lessons Glorfindel had taught to Thalion passed down to Estel. Thalion's youngest daughter was currently in residence as well, following everyone of Eluialeth's footsteps in her hero-worship of both Eluialeth and Morwen. Erestor was even more amused, seeing the lessons he had taught Morwen who had taught Eluialeth being taught to the young Celairaer. It was always fun to see the generations go by.

Glorfindel ordered Estel to do a spinning move as Thalion suggested Estel not drop his arm in order to protect his shoulder. All was going nice and calmly until a package was literally dropped into Glorfindel's lap from a passing bird.

Thalion stood up quickly as he easily blocked the blow from Estel's sword, having faced much more formidable foes in his time. "Glorfindel, are you well?" Thalion asked.

Glorfindel nodded as he painfully shifted in his spot by the tree. He stared at the offending package as he took a deep breath and controlled the pain. His eyes briefly took in the package, noticing the seal of Morwen on it. Glorfindel shook his head, she would do something so cruel to him.

"Who is it from?" Thalion asked as he began to instruct Estel again.

"The merry group of mischief makers in Minas Tirith." Glorfindel answered as he pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut the twine around the box.

Estel had stopped in his lessons to repeat Glorfindel's sentence a few times before shrugging and getting back to his lessons. Thalion was not quite Tirnion, and was certainly not as entertaining as the twins, but he was kind and patient. He, unlike some of the other elves among Glorfindel's ranks, did not make Estel feel ashamed when he made mistakes. Estel looked up as he felt Thalion tap him on the head.

Thalion cupped his face with a warm palm, "Let us take a break for a moment, I know I could do with a drink and some food."

Estel nodded as he felt his own stomach grumble, "I would not turn down a snack."

Thalion laughed, "Neither would I." He reached out a hand, "Give me your practice sword and I will go secure them both."

Estel did as Thalion said, and waited for his next set of instructions.

Thalion laughed at his eager face, remembering his own sons looking at him in such a way, "Go inside, Estel, I will soon follow."

Thalion sat down beside Glorfindel, "He shows much promise."

"Yes," Glorfindel answered as he pulled out the bundle of letters and small packages. "I am glad you noticed the beginnings of fatigue in him. He would keep going on past his own limits."

Thalion nodded as he took in the contents of the box, "He is very eager to learn." Picking at the stack of letters, "I thought you said they had been gone only a few months."

Glorfindel nodded, "Alas, Morwen and Elrohir are both prolific writers." He opened the first letter. "And this time it would be Elrohir who is the very prolific writer." Glorfindel looked down at the letter, rendered in Elrohir's exquisite handwriting and began to search for an explanation for all the letters.

_My Dearest Glorfindel,  
As you know, we have been sent out into the wilderness of a wholly other kind than that which I am used to in order to attend to the matters of idiotic humans. Oh, excuse me, that was far from polite or diplomatic but I fear both of those particular virtues have been beaten out of me by the mountains of suspicion we are being forced to climb._

_As you may have been able to surmise, we have not been openly welcomed into Gondor._

_Tell Erestor they see the sending of a female councilor as an insult._

_Also inform him that Morwen is starting to see it as an insult to be sent here._

_Why I know it is not your fault, someone needed to sympathize with our pain, hence the dropping box from above. I am certain you will be healed long before we are ever able to return home._

_I do not know how Gondor once stood in its height, specifically Minas Tirith, but now it appears more of the sad shadow of once glory. To be sure, there are not many who approve of us, it appears they have forgotten their once strong kinship and friendship with us. We also come under certain suspicion since we are more reliable on Mithrandir's words than Curunir. Personally, I am a bit offended that old bearded men with staffs who shroud themselves in robes and mystery are much more trusted than us elves, but then they all fear we are like Grandmother._

_I am starting to view her stand on humans in a much more favorable light._

_To be fair, we have met our fair share of kind persons here, we just have not found them on the council._

_Gossip of an amusing kind may have trickled back to you before this letter reaches your lovely desk or lap or wherever you may be. It is apparently false and common knowledge that Morwen and I are in some form of intimate relationship. As I often have, I must once again ponder why people find it so difficult for a male and female to be close confidants without having been or planning to be lovers. Morwen, of course, finds our whole "affair" as humorous as anything and I must admit it does offer me a certain peace of mind, not having to find polite ways to decline all the invitations from various females. Of course, it also serves another purpose of protecting Morwen against the advances, be they romantic or political, of some of the males here. It also prevents Morwen from having to take an active stand against them which, I am sure you know, is hardly good for diplomatic relations._

_The elder members of this council tend to be more respectful in regards to Morwen and Baineth than the younger ones, though I must confess I do not know the reason for such a thing. The elder members at least pretend to listen to what the females have to say but the younger tend to dismiss both Morwen and Baineth as pointless beings. I fear they may soon feel the wrath of the elven female. I almost pity them._

_There was one incident with one of the older scholars. He insisted he knew the true dealings of the events of the Fell Winter, since he had researched it extensively. Morwen, of course, had to inform him seeing how she lived and worked through the famine, offering aid and heading out on her own, she understood the events better than he ever would. I do not believe I have ever seen a man turn such a shade of purple so quickly._

_The Steward appears to be a good man, and he has done much for the Rangers who dwell in this southern kingdom. His main concerns are strengthening the forces of the city and holding off the attacks by sea which means, as Thandrog was clear to point out, a councilor from the Havens would be much more valuable than one from Imladris. In truth, I do not know why they insist on our presence here. They are so certain of their own actions, which to be fair since it is their homeland they have a slight advantage when it comes to devising strategy, they do not listen to any of our words. Or if they do, they are certainly not putting what we say into action. Morwen hardly knows what to suggest in regards to battle, though she has offered much sound advice on how to keep the city running while the battles rage on. One of the councilors asked how was that to help in regards to their fight. Morwen, with more dignity and reserve than I frankly knew she possessed, coolly informed him that going to battle to defend a city whose patrons were suffering from lack of food, clean water, and supplies was foolish, since there would not be much to defend when everyone died off from starvation and illness and general chaos. She then, appealing to their war-concerned minds, stated that if the soldiers expected supplies and armors and all the trappings, they needed a running city to secure and produce such things for them._

_Frankly, I think Ecthelion II fell a little in love with her when she said that. Apparently he has been trying to hammer such a point into his council's collective skull. It was quite amusing sight, seeing all those chastised faces. Erestor would have been so proud. I gladly provide you my artistic rendering of the moment._

Glorfindel's eyes quickly scanned the page of Elrohir's very amusing artistic renderings of the event. Though Glorfindel was not sure what amused him more, Thandrog in robes, Morwen rendered standing with a foot atop a councilor's skull, or Elrohir's decision to provide his own interpretations of what the councilors were thinking. Glorfindel quickly finished the letter.

_As for the Steward's son and the next in line, Denethor II, I do not yet have a good grasp of him. I have tried to ascertain his character as my father has taught me, but it is cloudy to be sure. There is a certain strength already in him but I fear his great desire for approval from his father and others may be troublesome in the future._

_Not to sound like the terrible bratish child I am sure you often think of me, but Glorfindel, please ask Erestor when we may return. There is a little we can do here, nor are we truly welcomed. We all fully support a tour of the area to spread good will or a visit to Rohan. Or even Mirkwood. All of us could be better used in Imladris. Furthermore, if one more elderly woman winks at me knowingly while I walk the city levels with Morwen, I will lose my sanity. We both are tired of the smiths trying to push engagement rings on us or the inquiry of whether we will hold a wedding ceremony here. Some apparently believe we are not really a son of Elrond and a senior councilor, but an eloping couple carrying on a clandestine affair by taking on those lofty roles of warrior and scholar of elves in this realm. I do not jest, Glorfindel, for I heard such a tale with my own ears. Honestly, I believe Thandrog and Baineth would be more suited to such a tale but alas, no._

_Morwen is ready to stow away on one of the cargo ships and flee to the Havens. Thandrog has already devised a plan of action for such event._

_Please, Glorfindel, I beg of you. Get us out of the city before we inadvertently cause a war between men and elves._

_With all my love and sympathy for leaving you alone with Eluialeth and Erestor,  
Elrohir._

Glorfindel put down the letter, openly laughing at the contents therein. He placed a hand on Thalion's shoulder before standing up.

"I fear we must both go in the house, Thalion," Glorfindel said, "For you have a young Estel to feed and I have to get Erestor to call our group back from Minas Tirith before another war begins."

"Are they really that far from sane already?" Thalion asked as he followed Glorfindel.

Glorfindel nodded, "They should not have been forced to ride out in the first place but Erestor at least wished to uphold the pretense. Now, I fear we must recall them as soon as we are able. For everyone's sake, both here and in Gondor."

Thalion shook his head, "At least Rian is not with them."

Glorfindel smiled, "Oh, indeed, then we would already have a war on our hands."

* * *

_**Mirkwood, TA 2940**_

Tirnion bit back his smile at the taunt thrown at him, yet again, by one of his soldiers. Golvien, in fact, one of their best archers.

"Oh, it is you, Tirnion!" Golvien explained as she put down her bow, "Here we all thought you had been taken away and hidden in some Imladrian maiden's closet, never to be seen from again."

"So, tell us, why did you stay in Imladris for so long?" Galuverior asked as he leaned out from one of the tree branches.

"Is it not obvious? He must have a lovely little thing there." Lothon said, a wolfish grin across his handsome face.

"Perhaps they just wanted an exchange, we get Balanauth so they get Tirnion." Claurion stated as he quietly jumped down from his perch, soothing Tirnion's horse. "My wife has missed you dearly, Tirnion." Claurion said, his hair shining in the moonlight.

Tirnion smiled, "Sisters have a tendency to miss their siblings. How has Ormeril been?"

Claurion smiled, "Your sister has been quite well, though I am certain she is glad to have her brother back."

"As happy as we are to have our seneschal and true captain back." Lothon said as the others nodded in agreement.

Tirnion bowed his head, "Thank you, all of you. I will speak with Thranduil at length, as soon as I am settled."

"We pray that you do." Golvien said as she pulled back her hair, "For I fear we are all at our wits end with our supposed captain."

Galuverior sighed, "I told Seidron to stay away from that dragon."

Tirnion gave a nod to Galuverior, one of his most trusted soldiers, "Sound advice, Galuverior, but I fear Seidron can sometimes be a bit…"

"Hasty?" Lothon asked as they all began the walk to Thranduil's halls.

They were all on alert, Tirnion knew the reports of the spiders had been far from exaggerated.

"Hasty is perhaps not the best word." Tirnion said, a smile upon his face as they stood in front of the first set of gates to Thranduil's halls.

As the gate opened allowing them inside Tirnion could hear Golvien muttered words, "Foolish is more like it." she said.

* * *

"What are your feelings concerning the young Denethor?" Morwen asked as she laid all of her cards on the table.

"He seems oddly suspicious of us." Thandrog said as he clapped in victory, having won this round.

"Perhaps it is the ears." Baineth said much to the amusement of others.

"It may just be the fact that while we are present, he must be reminded there are much more powerful beings than he in the world. Such things do not go well with the brash arrogance of youth." Elrohir observed as he began to sketch out the gathered group, having long ago tired of the game.

"Like most young boys, he admires his father greatly." Baineth said.

"Ecthelion is a good man, even if I am certain he does not deserve such a lofty name." Thandrog said.

Elrohir shrugged, "He is a mere year older than Estel."

"And yet Aragorn seems much more the wiser." Morwen said, a tone of sadness in her voice. They would not be there to mark Estel's first decade on Arda, something she knew hurt not only Estel but Morwen and Elrohir as well.

"Be fair, they are both very young and they both have many things to learn. The simplest events can change a person, the smallest meeting can be a catalyst for change in character." Elrohir said.

"Or the simple event which allows for the rest of a fate to be revealed." Morwen agreed.

Thandrog looked back and forth between Morwen and Elrohir. Shaking his head he said, "You two have spent far too many hours contemplating the ways of fate and fortune."

Morwen turned to Thandrog, "You must admit, it is quite interesting how a being who was once great and good can be turned into an agent of darkness and death."

"It does hold a certain intrigue, but it is also studying history backwards." Thandrog said.

Morwen conceded the point, "It is much easer to supposedly find the cause when you have knowledge of the result."

"Now who has spent far too much time contemplating the meaning of things?" Baineth asked.

Morwen began to answer but stopped as she felt the first few drops of rain fall on her face.

"Oh good," Thandrog said, "Perhaps the city will be cleaned now."

* * *

Tirnion still had a smile on his face from the reunion with his mother and sisters. He had never been hugged so tightly in his life, and he was certain there would be bruises on his body tomorrow, but it was more than worth it. Moving his bulging pack from his back, he slipped a hand into the cloth sling around his shoulders, pressing his finger on the silver cat curled up inside.

"I apologize if you were crushed, they can be overenthusiastic when I am gone for very long." He informed his precious cargo.

The cat simply gave him a bored look and yawned, clearly far from concerned about Tirnion's own crushing bones. In all of his dreams he did not ever think he would have a cat as a pet, much less one from Imladris. That first day in the valley had proven him wrong, when the grey and silver cat had made his home on Tirnion's shoulder. Thandrog had insisted he take the cat when they rode out months ago. And if Thandrog stated a cat would be fine with travel, Tirnion would be a fool not to believe him. He had no desire to leave his feline friend in Imladris, even if Eluialeth had promised to watch after him. Tirnion had found a silent, yet sardonic, confidant in his cat and was only to happy to have him within the protective walls of Thranduil's halls. Thankfully the cat had never shown a desire to run outdoors so Tirnion did not have to fear for its life, knowing the spiders would eat any moving thing.

Pushing the door open to his room, he was amused to see it had been prepared for his arrival, as supposedly sudden as it had been. Tirnion had to acknowledge that, despite all appearances to the contrary, little passed without Thranduil knowing of it. The elven-king had welcomed Tirnion home and then warned him he would be sent out again sooner or later to handle the dealings in Lake Town. Seidron, sadly, was still recuperating from his extensive wounds. Tirnion would have to elect another second in the mean time, a much more competent one than the current captain of the guards. The captain who was not to stand down until the next year.

Thranduil had assured Tirnion he was not without a duty and while he was still seneschal, he could order the incompetent elf from his post.

Politics could never be escaped.

Tirnion sighed as he dropped his pack onto the bed and carefully placed the cat down. The cat, far too happy with a nice bed to dig his claws into, gave the room a cursory look before making himself comfortable in the middle of the bed. Tirnion laughed at the antics before he began to unpack.

He had brought home much more than he had left with. There were letters from friends and drawings of Elrohir's. The first few attempts at map making from Estel's childish hands and an account on the Battle of Fornost that Erestor himself had rendered in the most beautiful hand Tirnion had ever seen, all done at Eluialeth's bidding. There were figurines carved by Glorfindel's expert fingers and songs written by Lindir that had not yet been sung in Mirkwood's halls. There were Elladan's accounts on memorable and humorous moments and a few shirts Rian herself had made. Morwen had gifted him with an exquisite pendant designed by her own hand and forged by Elrond who, much to Tirnion's surprise, had great experience in such an area. There was also a whole book of lore written by Elrond to be gifted to the library of Mirkwood. It was a treasure to be sure and one Tirnion knew would be revered by the librarians. Deeper within the pack, in a small book written by the hand of Estel, with the help of Gilraen, laid the documents containing the research of Erestor, Morwen, and Eluialeth, the battle plans of Elrond and Glorfindel, the training techniques of Elladan, Elrohir, and many other warriors of Imladris. All of these things were treasures to him and he breathed a sigh as each emerged from his pack in pristine condition.

Hearing the knock on the door he turned as it opened, revealing the weary look sons of Thranduil, Berenon and Legolas.

"We heard of your return from the abyss." Legolas stated.

"It was not the abyss, Legolas, it was Imladris." Tirnion said as he pulled out the pendant from Morwen, a rendering of intertwined knots to symbolize eternal friendship.

"Quite similar," Legolas said, "for those who travel there seem to leave a bit of themselves behind. Rumors ran rapid that you would not return."

"That is why they are mere rumors, for I am here." Tirnion said.

"But you wish you were in Imladris." Legolas insisted.

Berenon gave his younger brother a dark look, "Legolas, be quiet. You have yet to travel this world extensively and to know that sometimes where we come from is not where we are meant to dwell for all of our days. If Tirnion had wished to stay in Imladris, he would have. He is here, with us, and while his heart may lie in Imladris, his home is here, for now."

"My heart does not lie in Imladris." Tirnion protested as he moved his books from the bed to the stone shelves.

"Of course it does." Berenon said, a certain twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Berenon, I have told you, Eluialeth and I…"

"I never said the name Eluialeth in regards to you heart. Did I, Legolas?" Berenon asked his brother.

Legolas smiled, the look almost blinding, "No, indeed dear brother, such a name never passed your lips."

Tirnion turned to regard the brothers, speechless as he stared into their laughing faces.

Berenon patted Tirnion on the shoulder, "Denial, it is so sweet to see it on other people. Why, I remember when father first insisted I was in love with.."

"I am not…" Tirnion tried to protest.

"They never think it can happen to them." Berenon said to Legolas. "Just wait until it happens to you, little brother."

Legolas scoffed, "I doubt such a thing will ever happen."

Tirnion and Berenon both raised their eyebrows at such a proclamation.

"You are aware that with those words, you have just ensured such a thing will happen." Tirnion stated as he tried not to outright laugh as Berenon had done. He shook his head at Legolas's actions silently praying he would be there to see the day when such a thing occurred.

* * *

Elrond looked at the letter from Mithrandir, containing more of an order than request. Elrond did not bother pretending he understood the workings of Mithrandir's mind. Walking into Erestor's office through their connected doorway he simply stated, "Warn the staff."

Erestor glanced up at Elrond, confusion on his face. His eyes rested on the letter Elrond held in his hands, "Is Mithrandir brining another Took to Imladris?" he asked. Mithrandir had, throughout the years, brought forth a fair share of adventurous haflings to Imladris.

"He did not say, he simply warns us that with the new year he will be stopping in Imladris for a night or two with a party consisting of many dwarves and one hobbit, at the very least. He will let us know more as the events become more clear." Elrond said, amusement clouding his otherwise serious tone.

Erestor sat back, "Well then, perhaps Elrohir will be back in time to see him again."

"Are you recalling them so soon?" Elrond asked, surprised at the quickness of their stay.

"Having read all of their reports, Morwen's very detailed one among them and Elrohir's pleading letter to Glorfindel, I must agree with them. They are wasting their time there. We would do better with them here and you know Elladan keeps pestering Gilraen to let him take Estel out into the woods for a few nights. She will only let such a thing happen if Elrohir is there as well." Erestor pushed away from his desk. "Furthermore…"

"All the reports show another White Council will soon occur." Elrond said, knowing his own thoughts on such a thing.

Erestor nodded, "It would be better if they were all present for whenever that event is held."

Elrond stood next to Erestor, "It will be held in either LothLorien or Isengard from what I can discern from the messages. I would feel much more secure in leaving Imladris if Elrohir and Morwen were here."

"Indeed." Erestor agreed. He turned back to his desk and folded his letter, sealing it. As he waited for the wax to harden he called for a page.

Elrond silently laughed as he imagined the joy the four elves in Minas Tirith would feel as they received the notification to return.

It was the most amusing paradox, young elves tried so hard to leave their home and once they did, all they wanted to do was return home.

Hearing Elladan's laughter down in the garden with Estel's joyful voice being carried on the wind, Elrond could not help but smile. It would be good to have his son back home. Now, if only he could get Arwen to return.

* * *

A/N: Thanks.

It has sort of occurred to me that since I have not received review notifications, some of you may not have received my replies to your reviews and private messages. Having finally realized that if you have made a reply and did not get one from me in return, I sincerely apologize. I did send the reply out, it just got lost in the lovely world of the internet.

**Nima**, I hope the new story stands up to expectations. Thank you for the review! Also, thank you for the kind words concerning my sister, but we have, indeed, coped with it well. As for my father, well, you know how it is, both the bitter and the sweet.

**Renna**, get to work! Seriously, thank you for reading and reviewing while you are so busy. I more than understand. Trust me, I will soon be online only briefly as three 20-25 page papers come due. Celebrian and those waiting in Aman are going to get their own little mini-series posted on the lj like the other two mini-series within the series. I just felt their story needed to be told as well. As for Morwen and Glorfindel its one of those yes and no type questions depending on how you define sex. Have they had full on intercourse to the point of being in danger of producing a child, no, but they are not chaste. As for it being awkward, of course, as it often is the first go round. One day that might even might be written, but since it's not exactly my forte, I may have to out source someone to do it as a co-writer…or main writer…or, we shall see. Good luck with all the work you have to do!


	2. With A Common Goal

**Disclaimer: Tolkien still owns it all.**

**A Journey Begins**

**_Chapter Two: With A Common Goal_**

_"The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are."_

-Samuel Johnson

_**TA 2940**_

While the residents of Minas Tirith had not exactly grown accustomed to the antics of their elven guests, they had developed a certain art of ignoring the actions of said elves. The elves had begun to fade into the background of life. That was until one of the male elves received a message which caused him to run throughout the levels of the city, yelling one word over and over again. It apparently translated into "freedom" but the scholars were still debating if the word had some other meaning.

The elves, however, knew well what the word meant and though Morwen was aware she should be chastising Elrohir for his behavior, she had almost been moved to a similar reaction herself.

Of course simply receiving the news they were allowed to leave Minas Tirith did not mean they were able to up and go. There were affairs to finish, treaties and agreements to be signed, horses to be tended to, bags to be packed and supplies to be procured. Thandrog had suggested leaving under the cover of night and just finding what they needed along the way but Morwen, and thankfully Elrohir, still had some sort of sense. They would be leaving within the week, making their way to Rohan first to pay a diplomatic visit before returning home to Imladris.

"I cannot believe we have to ride up to the Golden Hall before we are allowed to return from exile." Baineth said.

"It was not exile, we are not in exile." Morwen protested. "Furthermore, be thankful we ride to Rohan and not to Isengard."

The group all nodded in agreement, Thandrog even adding in a shudder at the thought.

"What has the Steward said about our sudden departure?" Thandrog asked.

Elrohir leaned back in his chair, "He is far from pleased but there was a certain look of resignation on his face. I think even he knew that it was a waste of our time. I would not mind an apology though, they made such a fuss about having representatives from Imladris here and once we arrive they do their best to force us out."

"We may want to attempt to see things from their side, to be fair." Morwen said as she ran a hand through her hair. "They are in a situation of ever present danger, in a city that has gone into obvious decline, they are far removed from allies, and we are not only outsiders by our homeland but by our very appearance. A certain degree of caution must be exercised, it is not as if we do anything less in Imladris."

"Then do you suggest we ignore Erestor's summons and attempt to forge a new relationship here?" Elrohir asked, secretly praying for an answer that would let them leave.

"If I thought our presence could accomplish anything, yes, I would suggest we stay." Morwen patted Elrohir's shoulder, "Do not worry, Elrohir, I will not suggest such a thing. We are far from welcomed here and save Elrond coming down to this city himself, I do not think our continued presence will do any good, for both sides."

"Oh, Eru, do not scare us like that again." Thandrog admonished with an exaggerated gasp.

"Must you always play the jester?" Morwen asked,

"In Elladan's absence, yes." Thandrog answered, a bright smile across his face. Thandrog stood up, lighting tapping Baineth and Morwen on the head as he walked by, "Now, if you will excuse me, I hear the distressed call of a cat. I fear some vile human children have chased it up a tree."

Elrohir smirked as he watched Thandrog hurry away, "Well, we certainly know who will not be eager to have elflings."

"I am certain Thandrog will be one of those elves who adores his own children whole abhorring all others." Baineth said.

Morwen nodded in agreement, "He does prefer animals to people."

"The animals do not talk back." Elrohir said.

"Unless they are a dragon or a large spider or a.." Baineth stopped her list at Elrohir's dark look. "I think I shall go pay my respect to the White Tree."

"It is dead. But I suppose it still deserves respect." Elrohir said.

Morwen stood, "I will go with you, if only to secure you entry into that level. I need to speak with some members of the council anyway." Morwen shook her head, "Well, speak at them and hope they listen."

"Your scribe is off rescuing kittens." Elrohir said.

"Ah, but you are here Elrohir." Morwen said. "Sitting here, with nothing to do and with such exquisite hand writing I am certain you can perform a scribe's duty well."

Elrohir took a deep breath as he stood up, "I suppose it is the least I can do for my last few days in this city."

"And you can serve as the proper sort of escort for us horribly unwed females." Baineth muttered in a dark tone.

Elrohir laughed as he put his arms around both she-elves, "I shall be the envy of all in the city."

"Or receive the pity of all in the city, what with Morwen being referred to as a demon female and I seen as some veritable freak of all that is natural." Baineth said.

"It will still be so good to be noticed." Elrohir said as he pushed everyone to the gates.

* * *

Erestor glanced up from his book as he watched the progress of Estel's lessons. Faeleth had attempted to teach Estel how to write like Elrohir but Elrond, knowing Estel would have little time to write if his fate was true, had insisted Glorfindel teach Estel what was affectionately known as the warrior's hand writing. Clear, simple, and concise letter writing was needed and Glorfindel certainly had more experience with such a thing than any other in the realm.

"My mother said Elrohir will be returning early. Is it true?" Estel asked, his eyes still fixed on his wax tablet as he practiced his handwriting. Though Estel knew well how to write, there was always another style to learn.

Glorfindel smiled down on him, "It is true. They should be back, weather permitting, a week or two before spring."

"That long?" Estel asked.

Erestor laughed, "It is not so far away, Estel. It is a long road from Gondor to Imladris, a man on a horse would take at least three months to do such a thing. Elves are able to travel much longer before stopping, as do their horses, but it is still a journey. They will also be stopping in Rohan."

Glorfindel suddenly turned around to regard Erestor, "Really?"

"They are going to pay their respects, Glorfindel, not pick up any horses." Erestor said.

"They could pick up a horse." Glorfindel muttered as he turned back to Estel.

Erestor decided to keep a certain bit of information to himself. The party would, indeed, be picking up a horse from Rohan. Two to be exact, in order to breed them here in Imladris. The horses had cost a large sum Erestor did not wish to think about, but they would be more than worth the price.

Estel put his stylus down and shook his hand, "May I have a break?"

Glorfindel studied the tablet, noting the precise form of the words and the hardening of the wax, making it more difficult to press the words in. He nodded at Estel, picking up the tablet in order to make it blank once again. As Estel walked out of the office, Erestor gestured for it.

"He would make a good scribe. His handwriting has always been clean and clear but even doing the scratching of warriors, he is more than able to write well."

"Yes, well, we both know it is unlikely Estel will ever be a scribe, or a scholar, or anything that does not involve going off into the woods and waging battles with foes." Glorfindel said.

"Our Estel will not have the easiest road ahead of him." Erestor agreed.

"But I have a feeling he will be fine. We will know more once Elrohir returns and they take him out into the woods. If he has trouble through that week, we will have to work harder than usual to build up his tolerance." Glorfindel said. "Let us hope he takes to it as easily as the twins did."

Erestor laughed, "Oh, I hope he does not take as well as they did, for we will have a hard time getting him to sleep inside the house."

"We can always do for Estel what we did for the twins." Glorfindel said.

"I thought Crabanon said he would never paint a ceiling again." Erestor smirked, remembering the weeks it had taken for Crabanon to paint the twin's ceiling like the night sky.

"There has been a few hundred years for him to recover." Glorfindel said.

Erestor nodded as he went back to his book. "It might simply be easier to move Estel into the twin's old room."

Glorfindel nodded, "Perhaps we shall, for his birthday at least."

* * *

They had been riding for many weeks, feeling the land become cold with the winter air. Finally they had entered Rohan, the Mark, and were making their ways to the gates of Edoras. They had been welcomed into the realm, receiving nods of greeting as they crossed the border into the land, someone having alerted all the riders of their arrival.

There was a sense of awe and an even greater sense of respect as they rode up to the Golden Hall. The Rohirrim almost seemed frozen in time, their ways more archaic than those of Minas Tirith. Here was not a realm that simply took pride in what once was, here was a realm that not only revered, but lived, its past. Within the olden style of architecture of the area, the elves almost felt a sense of familiarity for times that once existed. They felt home here, even if their dark hair made them distinctive in the crowd of golden heads. There was a sense of peace here, even the elven horses seemed to calm as if realizing they were among friends.

"I did not expect this." Baineth whispered.

"Nor I." Morwen agreed.

"It is magnificent." Elrohir said as they all turned their heads, taking in the homes and the horses, the people going about their daily lives. There was curiosity in their stares, but not fear, or distrust.

As they reached the stables the group dismounted and nodded at the smiling face of the stable master.

"Party from Rivendell?" he asked.

Elrohir nodded, "Yes, we came from Minas Tirith."

"We were told of your coming, both from Rivendell and Gondor. You are expected, you may go inside."

The group nodded as they made their way to the steps. At the top stood a tall man, a rich tunic over velvet leggings, a fur-lined cloak on his shoulders and a golden crown resting on his golden head.

Elrohir moved in front of the group and lowered himself into a respectful bow, the others following his actions. Elrohir raised his head and spoke, "King Thengel, thank you for allowing us entry into your home. I am Elrohir, son of Lord Elrond Half-elven of Imladris, called Rivendell by others." Elrohir gestured to his friends behind him, briefly noting their heads bowed in respect, "These are my companions, the warriors Baineth and Thandrog of Imladris and senior councilor Morwen of Imladris."

The King smiled, "Morwen, you say?" he asked as he turned to the councilor, his companions all having equally amused smiles.

Morwen, though slightly confused, raised her head and answered, "Yes, I was named after Morwen Elfsheen, the lady of the First Age."

Thengel nodded, "I know well the tale, for I am to marry Morwen of Lossarnach and her parents gladly speak of the lady of legend they named their daughter after."

Morwen smiled, "I hope I am able to meet her before we must leave."

"I am sure you will," the King said, "for they are do with the morning sun. Now, let us go inside, the night's frost is about to fall, I can smell it."

The elves refrained from informing the King the cold was no bother to them and made their way silently into the hall.

* * *

The new day had come and while Edoras made ready for the party of Lossarnach, Thengel showed Morwen and Elrohir the stables. Thandrog claimed he could not, in good faith, pick one horse over the other and Baineth claimed she would not be responsible for the choice of Glorfindel's next mount. Upon entering the stables Morwen and Elrohir both were amused and amazed at the sheer nobility in each of the horses, they were obviously well cared for and well trained. Each held still as they were inspected. They were much like soldiers in a rank.

Morwen's eyes roamed over the large stable and, despairing at the sheer numbers, turned to the King and asked, "Do you have any white horses? The elf who I am sure will claim one of these horses tends to only ride light colored ones."

"We do indeed have white, silver and cream-colored horses." Thengel answered. "May I ask why this rider only insists on light colored horses?"

"Sadly his attempts to ride darker horses have never turned out well." Elrohir snickered.

"And who is this elf who has rotten luck with dark horses?" Thengel asked, clearly amused.

"Our seneschal, Lord Glorfindel of Imladris." Morwen said, taking extra care to sound as if she was simply naming a fellow citizen of her home.

"The Glorfindel?" Thengel asked.

"Morwen and Elrohir exchanged an amused glance. Elrohir, laughing, said "Well, I do not know if there are other Glorfindel's out there, but yes, he tends to be referred to as The Glorfindel."

"Though we try not to tell him that." Morwen said.

"Oh, of course not, great elves do not need to feel even greater." Thengel said. "Though I suspect it is more he does not desire to be more well-known than he is."

Morwen nodded, "You are correct and quite insightful."

"I have met many legendary men and few actually set out to make legends of themselves. The ones who do hardly deserve the distinction." Thengel answered as he walked down one of the halls of the stables, gesturing for the elves to follow.

"Quite wise, King Thengel." Elrohir said. "And quite true."

"Scholars exist outside of the elven realms."

"We are luckily scholars still exist inside the elven realms." Morwen muttered.

Thengel came to a halt gesturing to the horses in front of him, "Will these two do well?"

Morwen and Elrohir studied the horses in front of them, both smiling. "Perfect" they said in unison.

* * *

Tirnion laid his head in his hands and took a deep breath. "How many men have you lost so far?" he asked.

"The number is still uncertain, but it is high nonetheless." The messenger from Lake-Town told him. "We have already moved our city out into the Long Lake itself, I do not know what else we can do. We need the help of Mirkwood."

"King Thranduil will always offer aid to Lake-Town for their continued trade with us. If Lake-Town is harmed, so is Mirkwood." Tirnion sighed before saying, "Please, make yourself comfortable within the halls. We will ride out in the morning."

"We?" The messenger asked.

Tirnion pondered for a moment the fact he had retuned home only to ride out again, just as Thranduil had predicted. A long rest at home was not meant to be. Luckily, Tirnion had sent out the orders for the next elf to be appointed his second-in-command to Thranduil, the secret patrols, and the elves out on patrol of the lands. Galuverior would be surprised. Turning to the messenger Tirnion nodded.

"Yes," Tirnion said, his tone resigned, "We."

* * *

"What are you doing?" Faeleth asked, watching as Erestor wrote furiously.

"Ordering the kitchen supplies for the dwarves who may or may not be visiting us some time in the future." Erestor said.

"You need all of this?" Rian asked, looking at the thick list.

"A hobbit is coming with them." Erestor said, then stopped his writing. ":Possibly. If they come. It is still uncertain."

"Mithrandir?" Faeleth asked, a knowing smile on her face.

"Mithrandir." Erestor answered.

Rian shook her head, "Wizards. You think they could be more considerate."

"Be fair." Elladan said as he walked behind her. "At least he gave us months notice this time rather than mere days."

"Possible notice." Rian muttered.

"It has been long since Mithrandir has brought a hobbit this far." Elladan said.

"True." Faeleth agreed. "He tends to introduce them to Gildor's people."

"While this is all very fascinating." Erestor said as he moved one stack of papers next to the other, "can you please take the conversation outside of my office?"

"Oh, he lasted five whole minutes of thoughtless ramble." Faeleth smirked. "It appears we are finally wearing him down."

Rian and Elladan hid their laughter as Erestor gave his wife an amused look.

"Apparently you and your noise has become a comfort to me." Erestor said.

"Are they doing their bickering again?" Thalion asked from the doorway.

"It is how they communicate." Rian said.

"And bond." Elladan agreed.

"Oh, how sweet," Faeleth said as she stood by Erestor's side, "the children are trying to be humorous."

"Alas, their wittier halves are off in lands unknown." Erestor said.

Thalion laughed at the looks on Rian and Elladan's faces, "Come on you two," he said, "we have to entertain Estel before Glorfindel uses him as target practice."

"He would never do that." Rian said.

"Not on purpose." Elladan said.

"Go, please." Erestor urged them.

Faeleth watched them go, smiling as they hurried off.

"You are not truly making a list for hobbits and dwarves." Faeleth said.

Erestor glanced upwards, "As you well know whispers are coming in from the patrols that is why Glorfindel is far from calm at the moment."

"You cannot tell me what he fears, can you?" Faeleth asked.

Erestor shook his head, "For your safety, no."

Faeleth nodded, "This seems so familiar."

Erestor sighed, "That's because it is."

* * *

Estel lay curled up in one of Elrond's chairs, his hair wet from the snow that had fallen and his gangly legs dangling off the cushion. As the boy slept, his face stained with the remnants of the hot cocoa Elrond had ordered for him, the leaders of Imladris discussed the suspicions out of the south.

"The secret patrol says agents are searching the rivers around Mirkwood and beyond. They are not, however, the agents of Sauron or the Witch-King as any are able to tell." Glorfindel said.

"They must belong to someone." Elrond insisted, wary of voicing his own fears.

"Indeed." Glorfindel agreed, "Who that someone is…."

"Could be devastating if you state your opinion of said person without any factual backing." Erestor warned.

"Did Elrohir send any misgivings from what he observed in the south?" Elrond asked.

Glorfindel shook his head, "They were not often allowed to roam free through the city nor was Elrohir able to check the horizon form the highest level at regular intervals. There was too much suspicion and subtle hostility among the group for him to discern if any meant us true harm."

"The proud necks.." Erestor began.

"Of all races." Elrond finished. "There is nothing we can do while we lack evidence and accounts to verify our suspicions."

"So we are to idly sit back and wait?" Glorfindel asked.

"No," Erestor said, "we received notification this morning. There will be another White Council before the fall of Autumn next year."

Elrond nodded, "Keep a watch on the reports and document those actions which we cannot explain. I will bring these concerns to the councilors and will share them with Mithrandir the next time we see him."

"I will contact Tirnion." Glorfindel said as he moved to the doorway, "I am certain he has his own concerns."

Erestor watched Glorfindel leave as Elrond went over to Estel, groaning as he picked the sleeping boy up.

"I forgot how much young boys can weigh when they are sleeping." Elrond said, only slightly out of breath. Estel simply made himself comfortable.

Erestor held the door open for Elrond, "At least it is only Estel and not two bickering twins arguing who deserved to be carried by their father."

Elrond smiled, "Those were days of true diplomacy. Arwen was so much easier."

Erestor regarded his friend, "She will return, Elrond. She has even set a date for her return."

"It is not soon enough." Elrond said. "I know your daughter also dwells in the Golden Wood….."

"I have my wife and my other daughter here, Galueth's home is now in the Golden Wood, Arwen, alas, left so abruptly and has been gone for so long." Erestor clasped Elrond's free shoulder, "You are allowed to miss her, but you must also let her grow."

* * *

As the guests gathered around the table of the King in Edoras, Morwen finished her discussion with Morwen of Lossarnach and her parents. It was fascinating, honestly, to see how far the legends of the First Age had truly spread, even those strictly concerning elves. Morwen walked over to Elrohir's side, taking her seat as Elrohir continued to speak with the king.

"To be honest, we feared you would not accept us." Elrohir said.

"Why is that?" Thengel asked.

"The Rohirrim are known allies of Gondor and we were not received so well there." Elrohir answered, always honest.

"Gondor looks to a future where they and they alone rule. Here in the Riddermark, we revere the past and with that, we must acknowledge the work and the power of the elves." Thengel said.

"You certainly have." Morwen interrupted. "It is breathtaking, your artwork and architecture."

"Also quite refreshing. It reminds me of some of the huts I saw on my first ride out with Glorfindel. My first trip beyond the borders of home." Elrohir said.

"And when was that?" Thengel asked, clearly wondering how old the elves were who sat in his hall, yet far too polite to ask.

"Oh, long ago. Quite long ago." Elrohir said, knowing some men did not understand the idea of elven age.

"A hundred or so years?" Thengel asked.

Elrohir had to keep himself from chuckling, "More closer to two thousand or so."

"You said you were young for an elf." Thengel stated, remembering a conversation from earlier.

"I am." Elrohir answered, trying to find a way to explain.

"His father is much older." Baineth said.

"Lord Elrond was born in the First Age. Elrohir was not born until the Third." Morwen explained.

"Is that common?" Thengel asked, clearly surprised.

"Actually, no." Morwen answered with a look of confusion.

"Chaotic times to say the least, delayed the marriage for Lord Elrond." Thandrog answered.

The King nodded. "And do you have any other family?" Thengel asked.

Elrohir smiled, "Yes, I have a twin brother and a younger sister. My mother has gone to the Undying Lands." Elrohir gave Morwen a grateful smile as she gave his hand a tight squeeze.

"And you, Morwen of Imladris, what of your family?" Thengel asked.

"I fear I am not but a mere orphan." Morwen said, " I was fostered in Imladris by Lord Elrond and his wife, Lady Celebrian."

"Are you not married?" Thengel asked.

Morwen ducked her head as Elrohir said, "No, she is not. Though I know of at least one elf who wishes to change that."

"Oh, so you two are.." Thengel started.

"NO!" Elrohir and Morwen both protested.

"Forgive us." Morwen said. "It is just we have often had such a question asked these past few months and it has made us a slight bit…."

"I understand." Thengel said as he chuckled, "I understand more than you shall ever know." His eyes traveled to his betrothed, the people separating them for the sense of propriety.

"Gossip, like music, is truly a universal language." Thandrog muttered as he stood up and wandered over to a corner.

"May I ask what he is doing?" King Thengel asked.

"Finding an animal to talk to or an animal who needs rescue or an animal who is about to give birth." Baineth muttered.

"Thandrog has a strong connection with animals." Morwen explained.

"Ah." Thengel answered, taking a sip of his drink.

Elrohir laughed, "We are quite normal, I assure you."

"Indeed." Thengel agreed as the bell rung to signal the start of dinner.

Morwen silently chuckled as Elrohir and Baineth both shook their heads.

* * *

_**Imladris, TA 2941**_

"What is a hafling?" Estel asked.

Elrond, Erestor, and Glorfindel turned in surprise at the young voice, having forgotten Estel was in their care while Gilraen traveled for a month. A silent conversation passed between the three before Elrond smiled down on Estel, "Estel, why do you ask such a thing?"

"I heard Crabanon saying a hafling is coming to visit. What is a Halfling?" Estel asked.

"A periannath. A hobbit. They are a race who lives in relative peace and isolation north of here." Erestor said.

"They are small, about your size," Glorfindel said as he patted Estel's head, " and they will not grow any taller."

"They are a peaceful folk who keep mostly to themselves and rarely leave their land." Elrond told him.

"With the exception of one notable line known as the Tooks." Glorfindel said.

"If they are so small why did Crabanon say the kitchens would need to be locked and all the food nailed down?" Estel asked.

"Crabanon, I fear, was merely exaggerating. While hobbits do have much larger appetites than elves, even some humans, they will not eat all the food in the valley. We still do not know if a hobbit will be visiting, so do not worry." Erestor said.

Estel nodded, "I hope I get to meet one. They sound fun."

Erestor smirked, "Oh, they are. They have their own phrase even, "Fool of a.."

"Erestor." Elrond warned. Turning to Estel he said, "Go to the library and wait for me. We will start your lessons on the First Age today. You still have your music lessons with Lindir tonight."

Estel nodded and ran to the library.

"New rule." Elrond said. "No more council planning while Estel is in our care."

"Agreed." Glorfindel and Erestor said.

A bright smile suddenly broke out on Elrond's face, "Ah, our traveling party has returned. I suppose Estel's lessons will be canceled for the day."

Glorfindel had already made his way to the stairs, Erestor following not far behind. Elrond shook his head as he heard a collision between Elladan, Rian, and Eluialeth.

Laughing, Elrond smiled brightly. The normal chaos of Imladris was about to return.

* * *

A/N 1: Real life sucks and shall be causing a bit of a delay in my writing/posting of this story.

A/N 2: Thanks:

**Nima**, as always, thank you for your reviews! I am so glad to know you enjoyed it! And yes, you did hear something about some dwarves and a hobbit. This will, eventually, be that tale…sort of..from Imladris and Mirkwood. No, I cannot wait to get Bilbo into Rivendell. Why? Because I am a dork. I also think its funny/odd how Denethor and Aragorn were born only a year apart and yet turned out so very different. Seriously, thank you!


	3. When You Come Home

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien, I only own the personalities of the original characters.**

A Journey Begins….

_**Chapter Three: When You Come Home**_

_O! What are you doing,_

_And where are you going?_

_Your ponies need shoeing!_

_The river is flowing!_

_O! tra-la-la-lally_

_here down in the valley!_

-J.R.R. Tolkien, _The Hobbit_

_**TA 2941**_

Elrohir laughed as he brought their weary horses to rest in the stables. "Father has just alerted Glorfindel and Erestor of our presence. They are apparently hurrying down to greet us."

"How surprised they will be to find us not in the main yard." Baineth said as she brought her and Morwen's horses into the structure.

"Are Thandrog and Morwen still with the new horses?" Elrohir asked.

Baineth looked back to the corral, the smaller one hidden behind the stables. She saw Thandrog softly speaking to both horses as Morwen prepared their water and food. Turning back to Elrohir she said, "Yes, Thandrog is welcoming them to their new home while Morwen is giving them food and water."

"I doubt they need it, their stamina is amazing. Not that," Elrohir said as he patted his horse's snout, "our horses are anything less."

The horse gave its own version of what Elrohir was sure was a derisive snort.

Baineth laughed, "Elrohir, you know better than to insult the horses. They do not like that."

"It was not an insult, it was a mere observation. I still adore our horses, love them, I am merely remarking on the skills of out newest friends." Elrohir said.

"Well, as you apologize to the horses for your horrible behavior," Baineth said, closing the doors of the stall and motioning for one of the hands to come over, "I will go wash the dirt of the road off."

"We shall see you on the ranges later?" Elrohir asked.

"Of course." Baineth said.

At the shouts of surprise he heard from all of his family members, Elrohir gave his horse one last pat before emerging from the stables. He had barley taken one step out of the structure before he was near-on tackled by both Elladan and Estel.

"I came home early and this is the greeting I get?" he asked.

"We somehow missed your dreadful face." Elladan said, his eyes saying more to his twin than words ever could. It was not often they were separated by such distance, and even now they were still separated by other parts of life, but in this moment they were simply Elladan and Elrohir, with a smaller human version of them in Estel at their side.

"Well," Elrohir said, "If my face is dreadful, yours must be hideous."

"Atrocious." Elladan agreed.

Estel tugged on Elrohir's tunic, "You returned before my birthday."

Elrohir patted Estel's head, "I did. We tried to get here as quickly as possible."

"Glorfindel and Erestor both said it would be longer." Estel said.

"We were all, elves and horses, motivated to go farther and faster than most other riders." Elrohir said. "Only do such a thing when you absolutely have to. Also remember, sometimes it is better to take a slower pace than be too hasty."

Estel nodded, gladly soaking in one of Elrohir's lessons.

"Where are the others?" Glorfindel asked, as he reached a hand over Estel's head to clasp Elrohir's shoulder.

"Baineth has gone into the house, Thandrog and Morwen are…."

Elrohir stopped as he saw his father and Erestor make the classic shushing movements.

"Are?" Glorfindel asked.

"Are with the horses in the small corral behind the stables." Elrohir answered.

Glorfindel looked at Elrohir in confusion, "Why are they not letting the stable hands handle that? I understand wanting to…"

"Why do you not go ask them?" Erestor interrupted, a dark smile on his face.

Glorfindel nodded, "Right." He patted Elrohir's head as he walked by, "Welcome home, Elrohir. We are all glad to have you back, again. Perhaps you can be with us for more than two years this time."

Elrohir smiled, "Let us hope."

Glorfindel made his way through the stables, as Erestor and Rian followed, both waving at Elrohir. Gilraen and Elrond approached them, Gilraen resting her hands on Estel's head while Elrond placed an arm around both of his sons.

"Let us go see Glorfindel shocked into silence." He suggested to the group.

"Silence? Why?" Elladan asked.

Elrohir smirked, "We brought some things back from Rohan."

"What exactly did you…." Elladan stopped as he heard the neighing of a horse. He turned to his father, "Did you…"

Elrond nodded, "For a sum and a promise of trade rights we have received two horses of the Rohirrim. One of the horses will go to Glorfindel as reward for his long time service, the other, I must confess I am eager to take care of. Eventually they will be bred but for now, they are noble creatures and deserve to prove their full potential."

"Oh Glorfindel will be speechless." Elladan said. With a wicked smile he said, "Let us hurry."

* * *

Glorfindel stood speechless in front of the corral, his jaw dropped and eyes rapidly blinking. The others were standing behind him, all amusedly taking in Glorfindel's reaction. 

Morwen patted one of the white horses before approaching Glorfindel, "The mare is Hwit and the other is Leoma." she said, smiling at Glorfindel's astonished face. "King Thengel assures us they have been well trained and have noble spirits." At Glorfindel's continued silence, Morwen went on, "They are very intelligent. We were able to ride at a fast pace without any lead on them. They more than kept up, they passed us."

Glorfindel walked into the corral, "They are magnificent." Glorfindel whispered as he cautiously approached the horses.

Morwen stepped back, letting him approach. Erestor motioned for her to come over, "You and Elrohir picked well." he said.

"It was more King Thengel picked for us. They really are amazing horses, Erestor." Morwen said.

"Yes, the price was worth it." Erestor snickered, "If only to see Glorfindel truly speechless."

Both horses stood, their heads held high with pride. Glorfindel reached out a hand to each, softly caressing their snouts.

"I am starting to wonder if I should be jealous of the horses." Morwen said.

Elrond laughed from behind them, "Oh, I am sure he will remember you have returned as soon as he gets over the excitement of the newest residents of Imladris."

Morwen laughed at Elrond's words before turning to Eluialeth and Rian, greeting them and receiving their welcomes home.

Elrond stood beside Glorfindel, "And which one do you choose?"

"Me?" Glorfindel asked.

Elrond laughed, "Glorfindel, did you honestly think we would show you such magnificent creatures only to tell you they were not for you?"

Glorfindel shrugged, "I have experienced many unfortunate surprises in both of my lifetimes."

"This is not one of them." Elrond assured him.

"So," Elladan started, "which one?"

Glorfindel turned to his very mismatched Imladrian family, "I do not know, perhaps Estel can choose for me?"

Estel turned a wide-eyed face up this mother. She nodded and pushed Estel in the direction of the horses. Glorfindel held out a hand to the boy as Estel calmly approached. Estel studied each horse as intently as Elrond studied a map. Finally he pointed to the mare.

"Hwit," he said, "Because she is like that horse in the drawing hanging in Morwen's office."

"Ah, Elrohir's rendition of Ulios, one of my old horses and one of my most loved." Glorfindel said as he gave Estel a tight embrace, his eyes briefly meeting Morwen's own. "Thank you," he said, "I believe you have picked well for me."

Estel nodded, his smile wide and making all the others smile as well.

* * *

"I feel as if my twin has usurped me in your life." Elladan pouted as he went over his list of supplies. They were preparing for Estel's eventually camping trip out in the woods. Gilraen's one rule was that it must occur after his birthday. Elladan had been planning the trip for months and was going over the final plans. 

Morwen looked up from the tent she was inspecting, "Did you suffer through Minas Tirith with me?" she asked.

"No." Elladan answered.

"Then you do not get to complain." Morwen stated. "Besides, there is no possible way your position can be usurped. Even if you suddenly disappeared, never to be seen again, there would still be an empty place inside my soul until you somehow returned."

"I would feel more touched by that statement if it was not for the dryness of your tone." Elladan said.

"You have become far too suspicious." Morwen said.

"I am merely aware when you mock people, including me." Elladan said. "Your eyes narrow a bit and your always tilt your head in a most interesting fashion."

"Ah, but when I mock you, I do so with the utmost love and affection." Morwen said, trying not to tilt her head.

"There is, indeed, that." Elladan said.

Morwen turned back to the tent, examining the stitching and making certain it would easily cover Estel. "I cannot believe you convinced Rian to sew this for you."

"It was for Estel." Elladan said.

"You are aware he will most likely come crawling into your or Elrohir's tent." Morwen said.

"The first night, perhaps. But with two weeks out there, I am certain he will want to go somewhere to be away from us." Elladan said, speaking from his own experience.

"I just hope he will stay warm. It is not unheard of to have a harsh winter storm so close to spring."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Elladan said.

"Remember to pack some furs or skins for yourself as well. You have always been slightly susceptible to the cold." Morwen said.

Elladan put down his list as he stared out into the night sky. "Do you know Rian does not know that? That as elvish as I may appear there are still parts of me so mortal like."

"She knows your father is half-elven, but it is not merely mortal that makes up your bloodline." Morwen said.

"There are times I wonder if she truly understands." Elladan confessed. "There are reasons we often ride with the Rangers, and they are not all because they are descended from my uncle and his people."

"You do not have to fear appearing weak or so-called less able among them." Morwen sighed, "I thought you had grown past this."

"It lingers, the fear the almost shame, it lingers." Elladan murmured.

Morwen quickly stood up, walking over to Elladan's side, "Yours is a noble line, one of the most noble in all of elvendom. It is an honor to come from such a line."

"I know that." Elladan said.

"Then believe it." Morwen insisted. "I have seen much in the travels of this past year. There are fools among kings, and kings among peasants. The wisest are often in disguise as bumbling biddies and the foolish are often, if not on the throne, very close to it. One of the wisest and true beings I have met in this past year sits in Rohan, a mortal king of a mortal people. Over in Mirkwood, an arrogant few have elected an idiot to serve in the place of both Tirnion and his second while one is off and the others is injured. Just because we are supposedly immortal does not mean we are better. We have a long lifeline, yes, but we have more time to learn the cruel lessons of life. Mortals, when they learn them, learn them much more quickly. Any elf who would slight you for your make-up is far from wise. Rian would not do such a thing."

"What if we have a child though?" Elladan asked.

"I am certain you will be in Aman and by then would have already made your own choice."

Elladan shook his head, "I do not know how father does it. He knows that all three of us could choose mortality and he has to sit in wait while we decide."

Morwen pressed a hand to his shoulder, "Elladan, what I am about to say both hurts me and pains me and makes me fear, but…" Morwen trailed off for a moment, "…do not make your choice for your father, or for Rian, or Elrohir, or Arwen or even me. When you make your choice, it must be what is best for you and not for any other."

"Is that what you told Elrohir?"

"In not so many words." Morwen said as she moved back to inspecting the tent. "Besides, if you did choose immortality and then regretted it, you would probably fade anyway."

"Oh, optimism is so sweet coming from you." Elladan laughed.

"It is my specialty." Morwen said.

Elladan turned back to his list, "What of Estel's future?"

Morwen looked up, meeting Elladan's eyes. "I do not think any of us are certain what such a future will be. All we can do…"

"Is prepare him for any and everything." Elladan said.

Morwen silently nodded.

Elladan sighed and pressed a hand to his face. They had lots of work to do and very little time to do it. For once, he had to think as a mortal, or as one of the Rangers themselves, and they had to start raising Estel as such.

* * *

"And how was your journey out into the world?" Glorfindel asked. They day had passed, night was upon them, and a clearly tired Morwen lay curled up on Glorfindel's bed. 

"Do not taunt me." Morwen said as she buried her head into a pillow.

"I was not." Glorfindel said. "I was simply inquiring."

"Right." Morwen said, still suspicious. "It was certainly a learning process. While I am sure none of us will be running off to Gondor, I feel some of us will, however, be returning to Rohan."

"You enjoyed it." Glorfindel observed as he blew at the candles and came to lie down on the bed.

"It was different, but beautiful. There is something special about that land." Morwen said.

Glorfindel propped himself up an elbow, reaching out to stroke a finger through Morwen's hair. "Perhaps you and I will see it one day."

Morwen smiled, "You only wish to see the possible descendants of the mearas."

"That could possibly be a large factor but I have only passed through the realm since the Rohirrim settled there. It would be good to truly see the area."

"Yes, well, seeing as how you will soon have a council to attend…" Morwen started.

"Erestor has already told you?"

"He gathered us all and informed us. You still have a few more months." Morwen said.

"Not so many." Glorfindel pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I did miss you."

Morwen smiled, "Good to know the horses aren't the only reason for your merry state."

"They are a large part, I must admit." Glorfindel said with a smile.

Morwen laughed, "Hwit will be a good horse, though I do since some mischief in her."

"I have never desired to live a boring life, she will be perfect for me." Glorfindel said.

"Never? You never wished to be a simple craftsman with nothing to do but whittle blocks of wood all day?"

"Never. What I have experienced has shaped me and led me down many roads." Glorfindel said.

"Such as death." Morwen could not help but say.

Glorfindel nodded, "A blessing if I am to be honest. I do not know how I would have survived the destruction of Gondolin and the death of Ecthelion otherwise. I fear I would have faded anyway."

"He was like a brother to you." Morwen said.

"He was a brother to me. And a father, a friend. We had no one else when we went to Gondolin. Our parents were either still in Aman or had died on the journey, it was I, Ecthelion, and his younger sister following Turgon to wherever he would lead us. We met and became close to many on the way but with Ecthelion, there was never a need to be anything other than who I truly was, no airs, no masks. I fear if I was a mere carpenter or craftsman, even among the Noldor, I would not have a chance to know Ecthelion so well, I would not have been re-born, I would not have met Elrond and Erestor. I certainly would not have met you. So you see, never."

"Never." Morwen agreed. "Now," she said as curled up in the bed, "let us rest. It is long since I have slept in the comfort of an elven bed."

"Minas Tirith was not comfortable?" Glorfindel asked.

"Stone slabs." Morwen answered. "Rohan's were full of straw."

Glorfindel's room filled with laughter as he found much mirth in Morwen's complaints.

* * *

Elrond read over the note smiling as he took in Mithrandir's most distinctive script. He had begun his journey to the Shire, already having sent word to the dwarves of where they should meet. For a brief moment, Elrond wondered if he should contact Thranduil and then decided the Woodland King could do with a surprise. The dwarven guests might not be so appreciative, but he was certain Thranduil would find a hobbit to be more than entertaining. That was, of course, if Mithrandir could convince the hobbit to go along with the plan to meddle in dwarven affairs, apparently there were concerns about the willingness of this one. Elrond was not overly concerned, Mithrandir usually managed to get his way in the end. Putting aside the letter in a secure drawer, Elrond pulled out his notes for the next Council of the Wise. Even Galadriel had now received news of the increased activity of unknowns searching the waterways from Mirkwood to Mordor. 

Galadriel was again set on approaching the idea of driving out the Necromancer from Dol Guldur, as was Mithrandir. All they could hope was that Curunir would allow such a thing this time. Elrond pulled out a note and began to write to Galadriel, informing her to place watchful guards on Curunir. There was a suspicion there, of what Elrond did not know, but he knew of all elves, Galadriel did not find issue with being overly cautious.

They had five months to prepare their arguments. Hopefully, this time it would work.

* * *

**_March 1, TA 2941_**

Gilraen shook her head as Estel, Elladan, and Elrohir ran to the ranges to test Estel's new bow.

"They never truly grow up." Elrond said as he watched them go off.

"Oh, follow them." Gilraen said. "We all know you want to."

Morwen and Rian nodded in agreement as Eluialeth held the gate to the gardens open. Elrond nodded, following the group at a fast pace.

Gilraen smiled, "I cannot believe Estel is ten years old."

"His first decade." Eluialeth said. "Something important to both elves and humans."

"I am glad we are all here to witness such an auspicious occasion." Morwen said, laughing as she watched Glorfindel race Elladan. "It seems we have become children again, if only for a moment."

"You do realize he will now demand to be let out to spend that fortnight in the woods with the twins." Rian said.

Gilraen nodded, "I know. He needs that though, to learn that, to get used to that. If we were among the Rangers he already would have spent many nights sleeping out under the stars." Gilraen weakly smiled, "It is the way of an ever nomadic people."

Faeleth put a comforting arm around Gilraen, "It is indeed. Though sometimes even nomadic people occasionally spend a night under stone walls and ceilings, when they have places to visit." Faeleth turned Gilraen around, showing her a group of gathered Dunedain, all present to visit her and witness this birthday of their heir, even if they called him Estel and treated him like a normal boy rather than the one who would one day become Aragorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain.

Rian stood next to Morwen, as they both watched over the crowd. Elves were becoming a bit too merry as the day began its descent into dusk, but no one would dare ask them to stop their singing and their laughter and their dancing.

"They do not know our Lord is about to travel, to meet again with the Wise to discuss our future." Rian said.

"Nor do they need to know. As far as they are concerned, Elrond is simply visiting his daughter."

"Hopefully they will all believe such a thing." Rian said.

"We have a few months to make up a better lie." Morwen said.

"Cover?" Rian asked, not liking the word lie.

"Story?" Morwen tried.

"Either way, it is a lie." Eluialeth said. "Even if it is a needed one."

"Perhaps we should not talk of such things." Rian said.

"No, not now with so many present and a day which is meant to spent in joy." Morwen agreed.

"So we go watch the males make fools out of themselves over a bow?" Eluialeth asked.

"I do think it would be best." Rian said.

Down on the ranges Morwen shook her head as she watched Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel compete while Elrond sat with Estel by his side.

"What is Elrond whispering to Estel?" Rian asked.

"If I know Elrond and his own odd sense of humor, he is most likely pointing out the weaknesses of our competing archers to Estel." Morwen said.

"Someone should go retrieve my father to witness this." Eluialeth said.

"Oh, I think he is far too busy keeping the other elves in order." Rian said.

"Still, he would desire to witness this." Eluialeth said as she turned, dark hair fanning out, and made her way back to the gardens.

"She has been more choleric than usual." Rian observed.

"She has not." Morwen insisted. "I am sure she was just tired from training Thalion's daughter

and from working my duties."

"And Tirnion's absence has nothing to do with it?" Rian asked, clearly skeptical.

Morwen sat down beside Elrond, who was indeed telling Estel of the weaknesses in Elladan's approach, as Rian sat down beside her. "While I admit," Morwen started, "that Tirnion's absence may be adding to Eluialeth's mood, she has had many months to deal with it. I think it is more her own fear and her own unwillingness to acknowledge that she fears for him."

"You do not?" Rian asked.

"You know I do. But what should I do when he lives in a realm that is under constant threat?" Morwen asked.

Rian sighed, "You complain about it as you sit with your foster sister, watching your betrothed battle her own beloved, and wondering how we both fell in love with such childish warriors."

"They do have nice smiles." Morwen said.

"And voices." Rian agreed.

"And are generally known for their charm." Elrond said.

"For shame, Lord Elrond, eavesdropping on the conversation of two females." Rian said with mock indignation.

"Especially when you are supposed to be showing your student the weaknesses of his elders." Morwen said.

"Oh Eru, Elladan is someone's elder now." Rian said, disgust clear on her face.

"So are we." Morwen said.

"Stop." Rian insisted. "Just please, stop."

"Until your children are someone's elders, do not complain." Elrond said, turning back to the battle at hand. Glorfindel was winning, but Elladan and Elrohir were putting up a fight.

"Should they even be attempting to best Glorfindel? He has Ages on them." Rian said.

"Age has nothing to do with skill." Elrond said. "Legolas is younger than the twins, Tirnion, and his own brother but he is still the better archer. Thalion leads archers and swordsmen who are much older than him. Tirnion is in a similar situation. Or Morwen now, she is quite morew skilled than some of other councilors and she is younger than them."

"They certainly do not appreciate it." Morwen murmured.

"Then they should have taken more initiative." Elrond stated. "A good councilor does not rest on his or her laurels. If you do not try to improve your position, it certainly will not be handed to you. Not here in Imladris at least. There are those who are content with their positions, and we certainly do not look down at that. However, if one complains about another, younger elf, who has more experience besides the fact, about being advanced while not doing their own to show ambition, I do not feel any sympathy for them. And you should not worry about them." Elrond told Morwen.

"I do not, truly." Morwen said. "I know well that I worked harder than the others, attended more meetings and certainly traveled more than the dissenters."

The conversation came to a halt as Elrohir cheered, his twin's arrow having narrowly beaten Glorfindel's. Glorfindel nodded to Elladan, "A very good shot." he said. "Now, let us get Estel out here to take his own turn."

Estel sat up in surprise as the twins ran to adjust the target.

"Go on." Elrond urged.

Estel reached for his bow and quiver and ran over to Glorfindel. Glorfindel helped attach the quiver on Estel's back while Elrohir worked the light coating of wax into the bow string.

"How many elves does it take to prepare a mortal child to take aim?" Erestor asked as he settled down next to Elrond.

Ignoring the dark looks from the twins and Glorfindel, the others, including Estel, laughed.

* * *

_**TA 2941, Early April**_

In the Shire, a grey robed pilgrim approached a hobbit hole, located under a hill, and banged his staff against the green round door.

* * *

A/N 1: I really have to give a big thank you to the Council of Elrond web site for their Rohirric name finder, the horses would be nameless if it wasn't for their hard work at translating and creating a database. 

A/N 2: Apologies for the delay in posting, but real life still sucks and being sick is even worse.

A/N 3: Thanks:

**Nima**, thank you for the review! I am so glad the chapter helped to make your day better. And yes, sometimes I write "filler" chapters that while not exciting are full of little details that often become important later on. I just like to show as much of the "life" there as I can, even if it is under my own personal skew. While falling into Middle Earth might seem fun, I'd probably kill someone without my mp3 player to calm me. Still, it would certainly be memorable!


	4. With New Experiences

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien and company**.

A Journey Begins

_**Chapter Four: With New Experiences**_

_Elves know a lot and are wondrous folk for news, and know what is going on among the peoples of the land, as quick as water flows, or quicker._

-J.R.R. Tolkien, _The Hobbit_ (see, Tolkien thought the elves were a bunch of gossips too.)

_**Imladris, June, TA 2941**_

Glorfindel studied all the equipment laid out, checking each item off of the list he held in his hand. All the tents were there, the blankets, furs, other bedding, weapons, food, horse food, healing supplies, blank journals for notes, fire starters, candles, candle holders, lamp oil, oil lamps…..

"I do hope you plan on sending a third elf out into the woods with the twins and Estel." Morwen said from his side.

"Do you think there are too many things for them to carry?" Glorfindel asked.

Morwen cast a dubious gaze over the supplies which were currently occupying a good portion of the Hall of Fire.

"Granted," Morwen said, "I know little about planning a camping adventure but I do not think it impossible for Elladan and Elrohir to carry all of this. Estel can only carry so much. We can only hope he does collapse under the weight of carrying his own tent."

"Have you so little faith in him?" Glorfindel asked.

"I have more than enough faith in him, I am simply trying to make you remember he is a young boy and not a full grown elf. It would also be cruel if we made his horse bear so much of the weight." Morwen said.

"I can send Hwit." Glorfindel said.

"What has she done to garner such punishment?" Morwen asked. "Will you not just admit that you need to send Thandrog with them?"

"Thandrog needs to be here." Glorfindel insisted. He was trying to be keep Thandrog within the confines of the house as punishment for his latest prank which resulted in a purpled man of Bree.

"You can send him out to help them set up camp and then send him out again when it is time for them to return. They will not be so far away that they will be unable send a message." Morwen tried to reason with him.

"The purpose of this exercise is to make Estel think he cannot contact us." Glorfindel argued.

"Glorfindel, he is ten…" Morwen began.

"We need to train him." Glorfindel insisted.

"We need to be rational." Morwen said. "I still remember Elladan and Elrohir's first trip out there, they sent messages back every hour." Morwen laughed, "And every half-hour when they did not receive a reply."

Glorfindel crossed his arms and huffed, tapping the wax tablet against his side, "Fine." he said. "I am being a tad overprotective in regard to the three. I am merely worried. There have been reports of troll attacks…"

"On the other side of the Bruinen. Even trolls are not foolish enough to attempt both the river's and Elrond's wrath." Morwen said.

"I just do not want Estel to fear this. Whatever his fate may be, he must get used to living a life out in the wild and not within the walls of…."

"Elven civilization?" Morwen asked. "I would say your worries are unfounded, but I cannot see into the future. You cannot press your will on this whole trip. What if its rains? Thunderstorms? Sudden snow shower? You are not powerful enough to control such things. Honestly, Glorfindel, you well know it is the surprises along the journey which teach us the most."

Glorfindel looked up in surprise, "Yes, you are correct." The tone of his voice conveying more than his words, the warmth in it making Morwen suddenly duck her head as she smiled.

"I should return to my office." Morwen said. "I am expecting a letter from Tirnion."

"How is he?" Glorfindel asked as he started to remove some of the excessive items from the pile.

"The last letter I received was from Lake Town. He is to return home within the week but Thranduil has already informed him a patrol needs to be taken near the LothLorien border. Guess who will lead it?"

Glorfindel smiled, "Ah, those lovely days of nothing but patrol, out among nature, the stars…"

"The spiders, the orcs, the trolls." Morwen said. "Either way, if I want my reply to reach him while he is stationary, I must send it off before the sun sets." Biting back a smile, Morwen said, "I will leave you to the sorting."

"Please, send someone to assist me." Glorfindel beseeched Morwen's sense of mercy.

"I believe Eluialeth is looking for something to do." Morwen said.

"Perfect." Glorfindel muttered.

"What was that?" Morwen asked, a dark brow perfectly raised in inquiry.

"Nothing." Glorfindel quickly answered. "Eluialeth is a lovely choice."

Her hand covering the smile on her face, Morwen walked out of the room.

* * *

Thandrog dropped his share of supplies off and slapped Elladan on the shoulder, "Good luck, dear friend. I shall see you in a fortnight." 

Elladan looked over the mounds of supplies, "Could you at least stay to help?" Elladan asked. "More freedom outside the walls if you do so!"

"But Elladan, Estel needs to learn." Thandrog cackled as he mounted his horse. "You will be fine. You have many hours before the sun sets, one of the tents should be erected by then."

"You are being slightly hateful right now." Elladan said.

"I am merely taking joy in your current position." Thandrog said. "Look at your brother and Estel," Thandrog gestured to the two who were excitedly chattering, "They have more than enough energy to set up three tents. Do not let your desire to be with Rian cloud Estel's first camp out. You have been pushing for this event these past few years, now that the time has come it would be horribly impolite to abandon it."

Elladan sighed and gave Thandrog's horse a friendly pat, "I will see you in a fortnight." Elladan muttered.

"Good elf." Thandrog said as he turned and rode off.

Elladan turned back to his brother and Estel, watching as Elrohir showed Estel which trees produced better wood for the fire. With a shake of his head he surveyed the various packs and tents and started to reach for the stakes and mallet. They did need at least one tent up tonight. The sky showed signs of possible rain and the smell was certainly in the air. Even with his slight grumbles, Elladan could feel the lightening of his spirit. This was the natural place for elves, out here, among nature and under the sky. He glanced up from his work as he heard Estel's laughter. There was a group of squirrels dancing around Elrohir's feet, hindering him from collecting firewood. Elladan put the mallet down and started to laugh, his whole body shaking with mirth.

This was indeed where he was meant to be, at least at this moment. Standing up, he moved to rescue his twin from the evil forest creatures.

* * *

Tirnion sat at his mother's table, pulling off his boots. He stretched his body out and said, "I can only stay for a few days, it is hardly worth it to return to Thranduil's halls." 

"Your cat has barely moved since you left." Tangwen said as she patted her son's head.

"Except to attack my husband." Ormeril said as she placed a plate of food in front of her brother, pressing a quick kiss to his brow.

"Truly? He never did such a thing before." Tirnion asked, nodding his head in thanks at his sister's efforts.

Tangwen laughed at Tirnion's question as she brought said cat into the room. "Claurion has begun to ask the cat be removed from the house before he will visit." she said.

The suddenly purring cat immediately made its way to Tirnion's lap, settling itself before going back to sleep.

"At least he stayed off the table and the papers this time." Ormeril said as she joined her brother at the table.

"Where is Arodeth?" Tirnion asked.

"Our older sister," Ormeril said, "is currently cursing a good portion of the court to a horrible fate."

"What did they do this time?" Tirnion asked.

"They are tying to push Galuverior out of his position as second." Ormeril said.

Tangwen forcibly pushed her son back down as he made to rise, "Your sister is handling it." Tangwen said. "And I dare say she will do a more eloquent and better job than you will. You are road weary and of a short tempter when it comes to the politics of the court. Furthermore, Rilasseth will certainly revel in the chance to tell a good portion of the court what she thinks of them. Thranduil has placed her as the representative for the royal family at this meeting."

Tirnion let out a shocked laugh, "After all the protest when Berenon announced his plans to wed her she is willingly going into a locked room with all of those courtiers?"

"Berenon assured me he would removed all weapons from her person before the doors were locked." Tangwen said.

Tirnion sat back, a hand stoking the cat's fur, "A closed meeting? When was the last time that happened?"

"It has been more than a few decades." Ormeril said. "Thranduil is far too busy preparing for another pan-realm council. He wants all of his decisions to be carried by Balanauth to Imladris before he leaves for home."

"Balanauth is finally returning to Imladris?" Tirnion asked, truly surprised.

Tangwen nodded, "To request for permission to join Mirkwood as a permanent resident. Thranduil has already given his approval, now Balanauth only needs Elrond's."

"And Glorfindel's. Balanauth will have to step down from his position." Tirnion said.

"Yes," Tangwen agreed, "he will. He is waiting to tell Glorfindel in person, knowing Glorfindel deserves that much. I wonder who Glorfindel will pick as his new second."

"I would say one of the twins, but they may soon return to riding with the Rangers. They are just waiting for the current foster child to reach majority. I do not know who stands in line. I do not know if Glorfindel has even pondered such a thing." Tirnion said.

"Perhaps he will ask you." Ormeril said as she chewed on a piece of bread, "A Mirkwood elf in exchange for an Imladris elf, that sounds fair."

Tirnion was silent at that statement but Tangwen merely smiled, "We shall soon see."

* * *

Eluialeth ran a hand over her face, while Rian stretched her arms out and Morwen rubbed her temples. The three were surrounded by all the reports Imladris had ever received about the Misty Mountains, Eriador, the southern reaches of Mirkwood and beyond. 

"I would have thought, after all of these years, we would have passed this task onto another." Eluialeth said.

"I should be the one saying that." Morwen grumbled. "What good is a senior councilor title when you are still locked in the tedium of this work?"

"This is just to make you realize how fortunate you are to no longer be a scribe." Rian muttered as she placed a heft volume on the table.

"Those three really need to find others they trust with this work." Morwen said.

"Honestly, what of all those other senior councilors?" Rian asked, her face clearly showing her displeasure.

"They are not related by blood or other equally strong ties. Father, Lord Elrond and Glorfindel all assume our loyalty is more than the others. We have more vested interests." Eluialeth answered. She stood up and shook out her tired hands.

"And they know well we respect them and follow their orders." Morwen agreed. "Most of the time."

"Indeed, even they are sometimes wrong. However little they like to admit it." Rian said, glaring at the stack of papers she had to start going through.

"Which is why we are currently surrounded by old letters, journals, documents and various other scraps." Morwen said.

"All over an old and dirty ring that may or may not still exist and may or may not be floating in the water somewhere." Eluialeth muttered, poking a finger at one of the piles. "I am surprised half of these have not yet turned into dust."

"For shame, Eluialeth." Morwen said. "You dare to think any work would attempt to turn to dust in Lord Elrond's library?"

Rian and Eluialeth laughed as they both pulled out the next batch of notes.

Morwen reached out for one of the many soldier's journals. She absentmindedly opened the book, eyes scanning the dates for the time around Isildur's death. She came to a sudden halt as she realized the handwriting belonged to none other than Glorfindel. Putting the journal down she stood up and left the room, assuring Rian and Eluialeth she only needed air that was not filled with dust and other remnants of the papers and bindings.

She came upon Glorfindel in his inner-house office. He was silently standing in front of the large map of Arda, it's size nearly that of the office walls. Various markings were on the map, some of the ink markings new while others were so obviously faded and old. Her eyes traveled the length of the map. There were some areas always attacked, no matter the time, new ink on top of all the old layers. There were also new areas of attack, specifically around Mirkwood.

"As you can see, there is an obvious resurgence." Glorfindel said. "Tirnion has already lead three patrols out in that area and each time he returns with wounded elves."

Morwen stood beside Glorfindel, "The power and pull of Dol Guldur." she said.

"Yes." Glorfindel agreed.

"I came upon one of your patrol journals. Out of courtesy, I am asking for your permission to read it." Morwen said.

"You would not ask such permission if I were dead." Glorfindel said.

"You are not. You are here and therefore I ask." Morwen said.

"As a researcher of such things, I would think you delighted to have such an account." Glorfindel mused.

"When it comes to your own personal thoughts and fears, the researcher must bow down to the lover." Morwen murmured. 

Glorfindel turned his head to glance at her, his eyes warm even when his countenance did not show it. "I knew when I handed the journal over to Elrond you would have access to it. You have my permission to read it, though I doubt you will find anything of use."

"Ah, but what may have been an insufficient piece of information for you at the time, may be a large part of the puzzle for me as I work it into the overall picture."

"A puzzle and picture metaphor, Crabanon would be so proud." Glorfindel mocked.

"I should go back to the library." Morwen said.

Glorfindel held out a hand, "You are already on a break, why not make it a little longer?"

Morwen shook her head as she clasped Glorfindel's hand, "You are not helping."

Glorfindel pulled her close, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips all amid her laughter. "Those papers have stayed for a few thousand years, they can stay some more."

Morwen did not bother to protest.

* * *

Erestor and Glorfindel sat in Elrond's office, contemplating over a game of chess. Elrond had ordered them here but had just as quickly left the room. Both elves looked up in surprise at the sudden ruckus outside of Elrond's door. Glorfindel hurriedly stood up as Erestor reached for any heavy object to throw. The door banged open with Elrond pushing a gaggle of females into the room. Eluialeth and Faeleth were both fully dressed, their hair and clothing ready and perfect for the day. Morwen's hair was still unbound, her clothing more indicative of a peasant than a senior councilor. Gilraen was in a similar fashion, obviously interrupted in the middle of dressing. Rian, however, stood there with clothes clinging to her body, her hair dripping water onto the floor. 

"Elrond?" Erestor asked, clearly confused.

"I have gathered the various females of the household, and both of you, into my office to warn you Mithrandir approaches with a group of dwarves and a hobbit. I am warning you, all of you. Be courteous, watch what you say, be helpful and kind but be cautious. And please, for the love of all things sacred, say nothing about Mirkwood, Thranduil, and their relations therein. We all know that is not a very good area of conversation." Elrond said with a clearly annoyed tone.

"Is that all?" Rian asked.

Elrond nodded, "Yes."

Rian smiled, "May I go dry off now?"

"What?" Elrond asked. Finally taking a good look at the she-elf he said, "Oh, yes, of course."

Rian hurried out of the room, Gilraen not far behind her. Faeleth nodded at her husband before leaving, Eluialeth following her. Morwen, however, stayed behind.

"What is this all really about?" Morwen asked.

"Pardon?" Elrond asked.

"You would not be so concerned if this was Mithrandir leading a normal adventure. Therefore, what is really going on?"

Elrond clasped her shoulder, "Nothing you need to worry about. Now, go get dressed and appear to be the senior councilor you are. You must put off an air of authority."

Morwen gave Elrond one last suspicious look before she also left the room.

"Estel will be so disappointed. Here comes a hobbit and he is not here to meet him." Erestor said.

"Or the group of dwarves." Glorfindel muttered.

"Thandrog has ordered all the elves to sing as they come in." Elrond said, "I do not know what is wrong with that elf, but I must admit it, it is a perfect warning."

"Is he trying to frighten them all to an early death?" Erestor asked.

"I believe he lost a wager with Mithrandir." Elrond answered.

"And here I thought Thandrog knew enough not to wager with a wizard." Glorfindel shook his head, "I need to teach that elf more common sense."

* * *

Glorfindel collapsed on Morwen's bed as she continued to read the latest report from the Havens. 

"What does Galdor have to say?" Glorfindel's muffled voice asked.

Morwen glanced up, quietly laughing at the picture Glorfindel made. "He extends an invitation to visit."

"You have to attend the…."

"Meeting in the Golden Wood, Valar forbid you get Eluialeth to do the notes."

Glorfindel groaned as they again argued this point, "She is not as well known and as the daughter of Erestor…"

"How is it that to one group a blood tie represents a stronger association of allegiance and to another it is the perfect mark of damnation?" Morwen asked. "Furthermore, Eluialeth may have a blood tie to Erestor, but he helped foster both Rian and myself and our relationship with him is much older. Not to even mention our relationships with Elrond, Arwen, and the twins."

"All the outsiders hear is 'Eluialeth, daughter of Chief Councilor Erestor of Imladris.' It is not fair, it is not right, but you know well how it is." Glorfindel said for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I do." Morwen agreed. She put the report down and walked over to Glorfindel. Reaching a hand out to toy with one of his braids she asked, "Why are you so tired?"

"I am not tired," Glorfindel answered as he turned over, "I am merely weary of planning for this council." He said as he grabbed Morwen's hand and pulled her down beside him. "I am weary of reading reports of increased attacks in the southern lands and of having to deal with the threats sent to all of our councilors. I am weary of playing this game, waiting for the news and for others on the council to show their true faces."

"You think one of the members is contemplating betrayal?" Morwen asked.

"I think most of the members are contemplating betrayal. There are only a few I can say have honestly begun to take such actions." Glorfindel said.

"You know well what Erestor will say about unsubstantiated claims." Morwen warned.

"With all do respect to our Chief Councilor and our dear friend, I, unlike Erestor, lived and worked and fought for a city which was betrayed by one of its own. I know well the signs, while the times may change those never do. Erestor does not want to risk a diplomatic blunder at such an unstable time, but I refuse to disregard my own instincts." Glorfindel said, his tone dark and fierce.

"Have you spoken with Elrond?" Morwen asked.

"Yes. He is of a similar mind as Erestor. The only difference being Elrond has spoken with Galadriel about my concerns."

Morwen dropped her eyes, "Why do I suddenly have a feeling you are about to put me into a very awkward position."

"Morwen…." Glorfindel's voice trailed off.

"Glorfindel, Erestor is the highest ranking councilor above me, I follow his orders before I follow yours. Furthermore, his is not only my mentor but he is a most trusted friend. I cannot deceive him, even if I do so by simple omission."

"You have done such things to me in the past." Glorfindel murmured.

"I have, I admit. The situations are different." Morwen sighed as she again met Glorfindel's eyes, "What is it you need me to do?"

Glorfindel sat up in surprise, "Morwen, truly?"

"Yes." Morwen answered.

Glorfindel nodded at her words. Taking her hands in his own he said, "Then let us begin."

* * *

The Chief Councilor and the Seneschal of Imladris stood out on one of the highest balconies, looking out over the valley as their guests arrived. The sun had set, the stars shinning, The voices of the elves rose from the valley, greeting the newcomers and offering them hospitality. 

"How may dwarves do you count?" Glorfindel asked Erestor.

"Twelve." Erestor said. "Mithrandir knew better than to give me a full number."

"It would not do well to be turned away from a realm before one even crossed the border." Glorfindel said.

"Someone should inform the kitchens." Erestor said.

"And find some ale which will satisfy them." Glorfindel said.

"I believe there may be a few bottles buried deep within the cellar." Erestor said.

"Ah, yes, put under lock and key after the…" Glorfindel began to say.

Erestor interrupted him, "Incident involving the twins, Thandrog, Thalion and ale which we are never to speak about again."

"Elrond was quite upset when those statues were defaced. To be fair, I always though the statue of Varda needed the…"

"Glorfindel." Erestor warned.

"Oh look," Glorfindel said, "if they keep going in that direction they will walk right into the water."

"Shame." Erestor said.

"Pity." Glorfindel agreed.

"Let us go tell Lord Elrond." Erestor said as he made his way down the staircase.

"More like 'let us go tell the kitchens'." Glorfindel muttered. He gave one last glance to the horizon before descending the staircase. Glorfindel and Mithrandir were going to have a little talk about abusing the hospitality of the elves. No elven realm deserved twelve dwarves and a hobbit without any proper warning. Glorfindel wrinkled his nose as he imagined just how much pipeweed would be smoked within the next few days. Hopefully Imladris would survived.

* * *

Thanks: 

**Melanie62**, thank you for your very kind words and review. I, personally, cannot stand it when a character is written as a flawless being. It is simply not realistic. The feeling of family in Imladris is important to me and I am glad it is being conveyed well. I think it is important to see these elves, and these people of Imladris, have a support system that has nothing to do with money or titles but just the strength of friendship. I am a big proponent of the idea your blood family is not necessarily your true family, and that idea will become more and more clear as the series goes on.

**Nima**, thank you! And thank you for the good health wishes, I'm not quite there yet but hopefully it will all work out soon. I was trying to show the development of Estel's ties to horses with this chapter, hence the reason he got to pick. (I am also trying to get Asfaloth into the picture, hence the Rohan horses). I'm always glad to know you enjoyed the chapter!

**Snuffybagel**, thank you for both your reviews on this story and Lullaby. I wish you good luck on the ever typo filled road of this series (I try to catch and correct them all, really I do). I'm just glad you've found such enjoyment in the series.

**Valinor's Twilight**, I tried to pm this to you, twice, but this site hates me most days, so here is my reply and hopefully you will get to see it: I tried to send you a nice long reply earlier but this thing erased my message. To be all concise about it, THANK YOU! I have kind of avoided the study of politics, so I welcome all the help I can get. The realm of politics will become more important as we get closer to the War of the Ring time. It's just a struggle when some elves (Golden Wood) were known for being cut off from other races while others, like Mirkwood HAD to interact with others and yeah...if only Tolkien would have written on it more. Anyway, seriously, thank you for all your helps and suggestions. The next chapter deals with some of the politics in Mirkwood, so your suggestions are very welcomed!

Again, thank you.


	5. With A Taste of the Unknown

Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien and company. Certainly no profit made. In fact, the obsession makes me spend a good bit of the little "profit" I have.

**A Journey Begins**

**_Chapter Five: ….With a Taste of the Unknown_**

_After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations._

-Oscar Wilde

_**Imladris, June, TA 2941**_

Erestor sedately made his way into Elrond's office. He found the Lord of Imladris standing near the window, looking out into the night. Knowing Elrond was contemplating and yet also knowing he needed to be informed, Erestor regrettably said, "Our guests have…"

"Crossed the border, I know." Elrond said. "Mithrandir's message just arrived. He also thanked us for the warning about the trolls."

Glorfindel, standing behind Erestor, nodded, "Baineth and other members of the patrol said the trolls were getting more and more restless and ambitious. I merely kept them at their stations until something happened, and as we know it did."

"Three are now stone, or so says Mithrandir." Elrond said.

"That shall add a lovely scene along the road." Erestor muttered as he shook his head in disgust.

Glorfindel could not help his smile, "At least new travelers from the East can no longer say there is no landmark to tell them how close Imladris lies. 'The Last Homely House Beyond the Stone Trolls.' It has a lovely ring, if I may say so."

"You may not." Elrond stated, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "Are the cooks on watch?" Elrond asked.

Erestor smirked, "I sent a page to them the minute we spied the group. They are quickly preparing as much food as possible. They do warn we may have to use some of the supplies for the Midsummer festival."

"Have we sent out orders to the merchants for more food? It is likely Mithrandir will keep them here until Midsummer has passed." Elrond said.

"Eluialeth sent out a message last night to keep them on stand by." Erestor told him.

"And do we have someone stationed to greet our guests as they come into the realm?" Elrond asked, this time turning to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel nodded, "Lindir and a large group of our more harmonious soldiers are in the trees. They plan to greet them with song."

Elrond took a deep breath, "Valar help us." he muttered. Turning to his companions he said, "Alert everyone and send them down to the dinner table. Have the main table raised on the platform."

"My Lord?" Glorfindel asked. Elrond's table was rarely raised above the others.

"With such a large contingent of dwarves, more than a few of the royal line, I want them to feel we respect their authority as well as demonstrating my own."

"The politics of table placement." Erestor said. "Surely you remember."

Glorfindel shrugged, "Gondolin did not have large banquets with elves of various stations and here in Imladris we do not often have the royal families of the various lines. I believe I am allowed to forget such trivialities."

"Which is why you lead the troops and we lead the councils." Erestor said.

"I have been at my fair share of councils….." Glorfindel protested.

"Among your equals." Elrond said. "Not that it matters now, we must go prepare. I promise, Erestor, we can tease Glorfindel's lack of political propriety later."

* * *

Lindir cleared his throat as the guests approached. He dreaded playing the role of the innocent enough elf who knew and saw nothing. Elrond just wished for the dwarves to feel more comfortable, greeted by a supposed elf without station. Glorfindel, however, wished for the soldiers to gauge their guests. Sometimes that elf was far too cautious. Of course they would not risk offending the dwarves without having no one present to greet them. He had put down his sword and picked up the harp to avoid such trivialities. Lindir sighed, and smiling, walked out onto the path. Raising his voice an octave or two he said, "Welcome to the valley!" 

Gesturing to the elves behind him, he continued to exchange words with the group of dwarves, hobbit, and wizard while lanterns were brought out to light the way. It would not do to have the guests fall and drown.

No matter how entertaining it would be.

And no matter the fact Glorfindel would probably be blamed for it anyway.

No, no, it would not do.

As Lindir heard a splash and a round of dwarven cursing he pushed a hand over his eyes and quickly sighed. Hearing other elves running to pull the dwarf out of the waterway, Lindir continued on, silently cursing Glorfindel the whole way.

* * *

Elrohir jerked his head away from supervising Estel's fire making skills as he saw Elladan jump up. 

"Did something bite you?" he asked his twin.

"I think…" Elladan paused for a moment, biting his lip, "I think someone just fell in the river."

"You heard a splash?" Estel asked.

Elladan nodded, "More than just an object being tossed in."

Elrohir stood up, brushing bark and leaf from his hands, "No one has raised the alarm. I am sure some young elf was merely overjoyed by singing under the starlight and tripped into the river."

"Some young elf?" Elladan asked with a raised brow. "Are you so ancient my dear younger brother?"

"Younger only in the sense of birthing time, nor maturity. I fear," Elrohir sighed, "I am ages older than you when it comes to character and manner."

"I will do my best to make sure your old and weary soul can survive our time in the woods." Elladan said, dry humor in his voice but clear amusement in his eyes.

Estel looked back and forth between the twins, used to their odd banter, before turning back to the steadily growing camp fire. He had started this one all on his own, with Elrohir simply observing. The fire was not yet big enough to roast food on, but even Estel knew to take pride in small accomplishments. Today a small flame, tomorrow a bonfire.

Elladan sauntered over to the fire, his eyes studying the pattern of the flames, the quickness with which the wood was burning.

"Sometimes you want a small flame and other times a much larger one. There are times when a fire is needed but you do not wish to reveal your location." Elladan placed a hand on Estel's shoulder, the large hand of the grown elf no longer engulfing the small limbs of the growing boy as they once had. "You are making great progress, Estel." Elladan said.

Estel quietly nodded, reveling in the praise delivered with seriousness rather than the jovial tone for which Elladan was known . When the twins truly meant something, they tended to become as serious as their father, their manner grave, their words deliberate. Estel had learned at a very young age, no better praise could come to him than that from a steady gaze and a straight face. He was learning to be a warrior after all, and warrior business was a serious thing. One day he may even be skilled enough to become a Ranger. Estel had met many of the Dunedain in his few years and had heard the tales of Elladan and Elrohir riding out with and fighting with them. Glorfindel and Lord Elrond himself had even aided the Rangers a time or too. Estel could not wait for the day he could ride out with the twins, like an equal, not merely the small child they helped to teach.

There would be time for that though. Now Estel was just eager to have the fire big enough to make dinner over. After all, young soon-to-be warriors needed to eat well to become strong and fit.

* * *

Mithrandir did not attempt to hold back his own smile as he watched the various servants of Elrond's house attempt to make the dwarves and the hobbit comfortable, showing them to their quarters and entertaining them while the dinner was prepared. Watching from above it was quite a sight to see all the different elves in their colorful clothing deftly running around, guiding road weary dwarves this way and that. Nothing yet, however, had been as entertaining as seeing one of the elves running in with a water-logged dwarf, others following behind with towels to absorb the water along the way. 

"I see you are quite entertained." Elrond said as he stood beside the wizard, Glorfindel joining them.

"Very," Mithrandir said, "for I am reminded of little busy bees going around the hive."

"Does that make Elrond the hive's que.." Glorfindel stopped his statement at the harsh glare from his lord, "er… quintessential leader?"

"Glorfindel, why do you not go see to the ponies Mithrandir brought in with the group, help them situate to their new surroundings." Elrond asked, more amused than annoyed.

"A wonderful idea!" Glorfindel declared as he eagerly took the chance to escape. Ponies, in general, were less dangerous than formidable elven lords.

Mithrandir shook his head as he watched Glorfindel scurry away, "You would think after all these many centuries among powerful elven peoples he would have learned…"

"To keep his mouth shut?" Elrond asked. "Perhaps. Sadly, he would not be nearly as entertaining and than what use would we have for him."

"Each court needs a jester." Mithrandir said.

"And we have them in spades." Elrond grumbled as he moved back into his office, leaving the smoking wizard on the porch.

Mithrandir smiled as he followed the elf lord back into his rooms, pretending to miss the glare as pipe weed smoke dared to invade the very essence of the all the papers in the room.

"From communications with Galadriel, I am aware Arwen still resides in her realm but where are those entertaining sons of yours?" The wizard asked.

"They are out on a camping trip with the young Estel." Elrond answered cautiously, not yet wishing to reveal Estel's true heritage, not even to this old and trusted friend.

Mithrandir, with a look of perfect contemplation, blew out a smoke ring and asked "One of the Dunedain's sons?"

"Yes." Elrond said as he moved one stack of papers on top of another, "They should return on Midsummer's day."

"I hope to see them before we are off." Mithrandir said, curious eyes watching the subtle twitching of the Lord of Imladris.

"My sons do enjoy your visits, if only because your presence tends to remove the courtiers' eyes away from them." Elrond said in an effort to remove the focus away from Estel.

"Explosions do have the interesting tendency of doing that." Mithrandir agreed, "I am one of those lucky few who is generally condemned by the populace of each realm I visit."

"An enviable position to be sure." Elrond said, unable to hide his amusement.

"Has Arwen picked a date for her return?" Mithrandir asked.

"A few years yet." Elrond said. "Elrohir claims she is waiting for something and believes it will happen in the Golden Wood. I suppose I could do the fatherly thing and corner her and demand her to come home when we visit for the gathering of the Wise."

"Who is coming from your side, besides yourself and your two shadows."

Frowning, Elrond said, "Erestor is much more a shadow than Glorfindel."

"Glorfindel can be stealthy and quiet." Mithrandir said.

"Alas, moonlight and sunlight always find his hair." Elrond smirked remembering a particular amusing event wherein it was proved Glorfindel would not be the best for stealth nighttime missions in a dark wood. The elf was more a beacon of light than a shadow of stealth. "Morwen may come as the so-called trusted scribe but I may leave her here to watch over the twins."

"Watch over?"

"A ruler is only as good as those he surrounds himself with." Elrond replied.

"The twins could not possibly bring down Imladris in the mere weeks the council will take." Mithrandir said as he tapped his pipe, ash falling to the ground under Elrond's dark gaze.

"The twins are far more devious than anyone suspects." Elrond said. "Gilraen is here though, she can keep a restraining hand on them. Eluialeth as well…..perhaps I should call in help from the Havens."

"I would simply trust in the twins. They have cooler heads to guide them while you are gone." Mithrandir said.

"That they do." Elrond muttered. At the sound of the bell he sighed, "Dinner is ready, let us go down."

"Afraid the dwarves will consume all the food before we arrive?" Mithrandir asked.

"I am more afraid a few members of my court will have decided the dwarves are better suited for target practice than for dinner guests. Eru only knows what Eluialeth will do if let alone with them."

Following Elrond out of the office, Mithrandir quietly laughed, "The antics of the stubborn youth never become less amusing."

"I assume I should trust your judgment, oh ancient Istari." Elrond muttered, pretending to ignore the bright twinkling in the Wizard's eyes.

* * *

Elves tend to have less voracious appetites than dwarves, or hobbits, or even humans. Of course, there are always those who went against the elven norm. Elladan, for example, tended to become quite hungry after a long battle. Rian and Eluialeth, however, were not elves with large appetites, had never truly known hunger and did not often dine with a large group of other races. 

Needless to say, Rian and Eluialeth were finding it a bit difficult to watch the famished dwarves and hobbit eat.

"Look at all of those dwarves." Rian whispered, having already pushed her plate to the side.

"I cannot watch them eat, I am sorry, but all that food is getting into their beards." Eluialeth complained as she put down her fork and pushed her plate away.

"And if not the food, the drink certainly is gathering at the ends of those beards." Rian said. "Why would anyone want something so...food catching?"

"Perhaps Cirdan may tell you the next time you see him." Morwen said.

Rian snorted, "Cirdan keeps his beard much shorter and neater. Mithrandir may have a better answer." Spying yet another dwarf eagerly starting on his fourth serving, Rian shook her head, "How can they be that hungry?"

"They are certainly eager eaters." Morwen tried for a nice tone. "Perhaps they are just wishing to regain their strength after traveling all day."

"Perhaps." Eluialeth said, though her tone conveyed a sense of dubiousness.

"How long are they staying?" Rian asked.

"At least a fortnight." Morwen answered. "As far as Glorfindel was able to discern. Elrond wishes for them to stay until Midsummer."

"Oh, lovely, we shall become even more waif like since most of us will be avoiding food." Eluialeth muttered.

"Eluialeth," Morwen pleaded, "can you try to respect the dwarves? At least respect the task they are taking on, traveling into a darkness few of our kind will ever know."

As one of the dwarves let out a beer filled burp, splattering Morwen with some of the drink, Eluialeth merely raised a brow.

"You were saying?" she asked, amused as she watched Lindir attempt to quickly wipe off Morwen's face before anyone else noticed.

Morwen simply glared at her friend before attempting to resume her dining. The smell of beer in her nostrils, however, was hindering her mission. She quietly put down her utensils while giving a kind smile to the dwarf sitting across from her. "It appears I am full." Morwen said.

Glorfindel, sitting at head of the table with Elrond, Erestor and Mithrandir, spared Morwen a curious glance as he watched her push the plate to the side. He made a move to rise, until Morwen quickly motioned for him to stay put.

Eluialeth, Lindir, and Rian pretended to ignore this all three attempting to put their focus anywhere but on the secret relationship that most members of all elven realms knew about.

Turning her attention to their halfling guest, Rian asked, "And how are you enjoying the dinner, Mr. Baggins?"

Bilbo, perched on more than a few seat cushions and volumes of horribly inaccurate lore, glanced up at the elvish female, "I thought there would be more singing." Bilbo admitted.

"Oh, there will be plenty after." Rian assured him.

"More songs and gossip than you can handle," Eluialeth said, "once we are all settled in the Hall of Fire."

"Elrond's decree," Morwen said, "is that such things be held until after the guests have eaten or else no one would ever leave the table. We have more than a fair share of elves who would talk uninterrupted until the end of days."

"She means to say, 'be wary of the painter Crabanon.' If you do not have a whole day to linger, it is best not to engage him." Rian said.

Lindir, knowing the music was more his area than the others, said, "Mr. Baggins, I promise you there will be many hours of song. Not merely in the Hall of Fire, but under the stars as well. It is a favorite pastime for us, to sing under the stars in June."

"Lindir is one of our most renown musicians," Rian said, "He knows all sort of songs, both from elves and man."

"A select dwarven few as well." Lindir said.

"Oh, are you a minstrel?" Bilbo asked. "I thought for sure you were just a servant, what with guiding us into the realm and all."

The females discreetly covered their smiles with hands, napkins, and water goblets while Lindir cleared his throat and attempted to say, in a voice not dripping with anger and insult, "I find it refreshing to serve the realm in other capacities."

"And by 'refreshing' he means 'Glorfindel forced him to do so.'" Eluialeth whispered.

The dwarves, having cottoned on to the elvish whispering and laughing were hardly amused. As Elrond's annoyed gaze fell upon the laughing group, the young councilors quickly resumed their quiet and contemplative consumption of dinner.

* * *

Outside the elves were singing, even the dwarves having to admit the elves were quite talented. The main leaders of Imladris, however, were cloistered away studying the maps of the land. 

"Trolls to one side, orcs to the other, something even darker in the south." Elrond murmured as he studied the map before him.

"Baineth confirms two patrol guards sent a message warning us of the trolls having come down from the mountains. Her group spied Mithrandir and also warned him." Glorfindel laughed, "That wizard does have a tendency to wander off at the most inopportune time."

"I am certain Mithrandir's actions all have a reason." Erestor said.

"They always have." Glorfindel muttered, briefly remembering his encounters with the wizard's spirit in the Blessed Realms.

"Has Tom sent any news?" Erestor asked.

"Tom?" Elrond asked.

"Bombadil." Glorfindel said. "The hobbits, I believe, have renamed Iarwain Ben-adar 'Tom Bombadil' and he is quite taken with this current name." Turning to Erestor Glorfindel said, "You know he prefers more to deal with Radagast and Gildor than with us, but he has not sent any warnings our way. None of the attack patterns appear to be directed at his home area. Even if they were, I doubt he would be bothered by them." Glorfindel said. "We are lucky our guests managed to take care of those trolls."

Elrond let a smile come to his face, "One for the lore books, I am certain. A group of dwarves and a hobbit defeated three monstrous trolls."

"I believe the sun did the defeating," Erestor said, "but what else should we expect from those whose descendants took on orcs. Is that hobbit not related to the one who rose up against the goblins?"

"Somewhere along the lines, yes. A great uncle, I do believe." Elrond said. "Mr. Baggins appears to have inherited some of that Took courage."

"That's funny, I always thought it was Took stupidity." Erestor said.

Glorfindel laughed loudly, drawing the attention of both Elrond and Erestor. Holding up a hand at their curious glances, Glorfindel said, "A dear friend of mine once said the line between stupidity and courage is only defined by the outcome of an action."

"Quite an intelligent statement. Did Cirdan say that?" Erestor asked.

"No, no, it was Ecthelion." Glorfindel said, his voice taking on a soft tone. "He was mischievous, indeed, but he was not one given to foolhardy actions."

Elrond, sensing the emotional state of Glorfindel at the mention of his old friend, turned back to the map, "Well, who wants to write the letter to Thranduil letting him know visitors are on the way?"

Erestor and Glorfindel exchanged glances.

"I have to see to the ponies." Glorfindel said, making his escape.

Erestor followed his exit with narrowed eyes as he said, "I believe Eluialeth asked for my assistance on one of her reports."

Watching both of his dear friends desert him Elrond smirked, "So much for elven courage."

Closing his eyes, he turned towards the balcony, letting the dulcet tones of elvish singing soothe him, if only for a mere moment.

* * *

Elrond, seeking retribution for the abandonment of the previous night, had assigned Glorfindel and Erestor to attend to the requests of the guests. Erestor, one who was horribly disgusted by the smell of pipe weed, had been sentenced to Mithrandir while Glorfindel was sent to watch over the dwarves, the ponies, and the hobbit. The debate still waged over who had the worse punishment. Glorfindel, however, knew well he could not be carrying out his tasks without some help. Finding his first helper unaware in the library, Glorfindel made ready to attack. 

Morwen looked up from her research on more efficient waterways when she felt the air shift around her. Placing her quill down carefully, she turned around to see who had entered the library. Finding no one present, she merely shrugged and resumed her writing. She paused again as she heard a slight whisper, but again seeing no one present, she decided it was merely the sound of the wind. Ducking her head, she of course did not see the creature looming behind her, nor the hand reaching out to cover her mouth.

Rian sighed as she moved behind Morwen again, Glorfindel had claimed Rian would only be free of her duties in helping him if she could find a suitable replacement. While Rian was not often given to sacrificing another in her place, these were dwarves and the situation called for desperate measures.

Morwen moved to attack as she felt a hand close over her mouth but was stopped as Rian whispered in her ear, "Do not make a sound. Lord Elrond cannot know you are being pulled away from your research."

Morwen forcibly removed Rian's hand from her mouth, "Have you lost all sense? You nearly scared me to.."

"What? Death?" Rian asked. "I hardly believe that is possible. Glorfindel needs your assistance and I am more than willing to take over your research."

Morwen glared at her friend, "You could not simply touch my shoulder and ask me like any person with half a…"

"Elrond is not to know." Rian protested. Pulling Morwen off of the bench, she tugged her to the doorway, "Now, go help Glorfindel before some dwarf of some kind gets offended and threatens to wield his axe."

"Rian, that is hardly respectful." Morwen admonished.

"Which is why you will be perfect for the task. Now, off with you, go be a nice and proper councilor." Rian shoved her out the door, right into the chest of Glorfindel.

"I sincerely.." Morwen started.

"Detested me at the moment. Or Rian. I know, I am aware, we must hurry before Elrond sees us." Glorfindel said.

"Do you not believe you are being a tad extreme in your behavior?" Morwen asked.

"Twelve dwarves and a hobbit, Morwen. Twelve dwarves. This is not extreme. This is a battle of my will and my patience and my ability to keep my mouth shut." Glorfindel forcibly guiding Morwen by the arm said, "If I am forced to entertain out guests, I refuse to do it alone. You are the one who spent hours researching dwarves.."

"In regards to war!" Morwen protested.

"….and should therefore be able to handle them. War and mining. What else do dwarves talk about?"

"Ale." Morwen said.

Glorfindel shook his head as they made their way to the Hall of Fire, "I fear you will not have much to say on that topic. Where is Elladan when you need him most?"

"Off in the woods teaching Estel bawdy songs about barmaids no doubt." Morwen glanced up at Glorfindel, "Songs he most assuredly learned from you."

"Please, can your disapproval of my mishaps of youth be held off until we are raising our own children?" Glorfindel asked, more concerned with entertaining the guests and escaping Elrond's wrath than the words that had just escaped his mouth.

Morwen, having become well aware of Glorfindel's habits, merely shook her head and went back to the subject of dwarves.

"Would you not have more to say to the dwarves?" she asked. "Have you not gone on more than a few drinking expeditions with them? Did they not have great elven smiths in…" Morwen stopped at the dark look from Glorfindel, "um…the..er…settling of Imladris?" she asked, trying to dispel the word and idea of 'Gondolin' from the air.

"There were not so many dwarves in the area and we were all on much better terms." Glorfindel said, drawing silent as they entered the Hall. Lindir and a few of the younger musicians were playing songs with a fast tempo, allowing the dwarves to dance around in various jigs. Bilbo Baggins, sitting a top a pile of cushions, tapped out a rhythm on his thigh. Glorfindel and Morwen both approached the hobbit.

"Why do you not dance, Mr. Baggins?" Morwen asked. "I am certain the dwarves would not mind your presence on their dance floor."

"Oh, I have danced, lady elf," Bilbo said, a slight blush staining his cheeks, "but Lindir promised me he would play a traditional elven song next. I am most eager to hear it."

"Do you like elven song?" Glorfindel asked Bilbo.

Bilbo nodded eagerly, "Oh yes, it is most beautiful and I do not hear such a thing often enough. Do you know any of the songs?" Bilbo asked as he gave Glorfindel an appraising look, "You look quite young for an elf."

Morwen bit her lip and turned to the side to hide her laughter as Glorfindel sat down next to the hobbit.

"Bilbo, I know many elven songs, for you see, I am older than many, even Lord Elrond, though he does not always like to admit it. It is honestly a convoluted problem who among us is older, but I still claim the prize if only counting the years lived on Arda."

"And what is your name?" Bilbo asked. The previous night had seen many rushed introductions and guests more concerned with food than new faces.

"Glorfindel." The elf answered, not in the least insulted that his name had been forgotten.

Bilbo simply blinked at him, "Glorfindel. And what does it mean? All elf names seem to have some meaning."

"Golden braids." Glorfindel said.

"Well, that's not very original." Bilbo said. "And you?" he asked Morwen.

"Morwen, meaning dark lady. Quite a common name in Arda if I am to be quite frank." Morwen stated, as she tried to hold back her laughter.

Bilbo regarded her for a moment and said, "Elves apparently have a hair obsession. I suppose Elrond means brown tree or something along those lines."

"Star dome, actually." Glorfindel said. "I am afraid it is a family tradition."

"Ah, yes," Bilbo said, "his father, the mariner." Bilbo chuckled at the surprised looks on the elves' faces. "Even us hobbits know a thing or two about elves and their people."

Glorfindel laughed, truly laughed, "Oh dear Sir Bilbo, I fear I will miss you once you are gone."

"Indeed," Elrond said as he sat down next to his seneschal, giving him a brief warning glare. Regarding Bilbo he said, "You will have to come stay with us once your adventure has come to an end."

"Do you not yet know Elrond," Mithrandir said as he followed the elven lord, "the adventure never truly ends."

Glorfindel smiled, "Truer words I have never heard."

As Lindir's soft voice began to fill the hall, everyone drew quiet as they listened to the tale of Luthien and Beren.

* * *

Tirnion sat under the trees and tried his best to ignore the whispers of pain from the old oak. The soil was turning to poison as the darkness from Dol Guldur had finally started to invade everything. Tirnion pressed a comforting hand to the ancient tree, "We are trying, my friend, we are trying." 

Using a technique Thranduil had showed him years ago, he let some of his healing power leak into the tree. There had once been elves who were simply healers of plants or animals. Now, they were needed to heal people and few concentrated on the art of healing the animals or the woodlife. It was understandable, nature had a way of taking care of such things on its own, but Tirnion could not stand the pain from this tree, a tree he had found solace in since his childhood.

The air was tense, the land itself bracing for what was coming. Tirnion ran a hand over the cracking soil. A change was coming, be it good or ill. As a dragon roared in the distance, Tirnion closed his eyes, letting a tear or two shed at the loss of life that had surely occurred. He stood up and made his way to the village of men, certain he would come upon a scene of burning men and their homes. Something had to give soon, something had to break. Briefly his eyes flickered to the western horizon before he turned back to his task.

* * *

A/N 1: A fudged, a bit, on _The Hobbit_ entrance into Imladris. No dwarves fell into the water then. As for Tom Bombadil, well, as we all know, he is quite the little mystery. 

A/N 2: I apologize profusely for the long delay, but I honestly had no idea it would take this long. Various situations arouse which kept me from posting, and leaving off the story without warning, and for that I really do apologize. Everyone who is still following this story, thank you for sticking around and hopefully we can resume a nice, consistent, regular schedule.

A/N 3: Thanks

**Nima**, Thank you for the review, as always! The Morwen and Glorfindel interaction will be more so in the coming chapters, and your question for what he asked her to do will be answered in the next chapter as well. The twins and Estel are going to be in that forest for awhile, ok, another chapter, but I hope you still enjoy it. As for Tirnion, well, some dark times are ahead for him and we'll just have to see. The Once I Was story on the ale and the twins is, indeed, being worked on as we speak.


	6. With Saying Goodbye

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien and company, I only own the personalities of the original characters. **

Warning: Um, as my chapters go, this one is long. If you want to read it in a Part A/Part B format, you can go to the livejournal.

**A Journey Begins…**

_**Chapter Six: With Saying Goodbye**_

_It is only by following your deepest instinct that you can lead a rich life, and if you let your fear of consequence prevent you from following your deepest instinct, then your life will be safe, expedient and thin. _

-Katharine Butler Hathaway

**_Mirkwood, TA 2941_**

Tirnion wearily made his way into his mother's house. His beloved cat gave a mew of greeting before resuming its chase of a phantom bug.

"If that's a spider, please eat it." Tirnion said as he pressed his hand to the spider venom wound on his shoulder. Never had Tirnion felt such a large amount of hatred for any creature in his life. It was the ultimate revenge of the spiders, to somehow have a breed which used whole oaks to clean their teeth and ate small villages of men for snacks.

Collapsing into a chair by the table, Tirnion winced, feeling the haphazardly done stitches on his side pull. None had escaped the last patrol unscathed but none had died. Tirnion would take as many venom burns and amateur stitching jobs as he could just as long as everyone survived.

"You're not to be back until next week." His mother said from the doorway.

"So sorry to disappoint you, but when every last warrior tells you to go home and recuperate, you tend to listen to them." Tirnion said.

"Did they draw their bows on you?" Tangwen asked.

"Galuverior led them." Tirnion muttered. "I knew he was only after my position."

Tangwen come to stand beside her son, her nose wrinkling in distaste as the lingering smell of spider venom and burnt skin reached her. "I hope the spider's dead."

"Completely. I believe Legolas was channeling our dwarven fellows since he lead the hacking."

"What does Thranduil do with all of those limbs?" Tangwen asked as she began to prepare a poultice for his bruises.

Tirnion listed the many reasons, "The skeleton is surprisingly strong and helps to reinforce many things. The meat hasn't yet appeared toxic to the cattle and frankly, we do not have a pit large enough to bury or burn such a creature in; hacking it to pieces is about all there is to be done."

"I am certain is has nothing to do with throwing a frustrated tantrum with an axe in hand." Tangwen said as she lifted her son's shirt up, hands lightly passing over the bandages.

"You are scarring." She said.

Tirnion looked down at his mother's face, swallowing down his answer as worry settled across her brow.

Smiling with a lightheartedness he did not feel Tirnion said, "There is only so many times a body can be hurt before it starts to show signs, even if it is an elven one."

"You should go on leave." Tangwen said.

"I have only just come back." Tirnion protested. "I have not been back a year and you are so eager to have me…"

"Tirnion, you are one of the youngest, if not the youngest seneschal our realm has ever seen. You have more duties than any before you. As much as I respected Nordithen he left you, and us, in a great time of need. Such a burden should not fall on your shoulders alone."

"It hasn't." Tirnion said. "Truly, mother, I have received aid from many. Thranduil has handed out my lesser tasks to my subordinates and I have received great training from our King and from Glorfindel."

Tangwen shook her head, "Berenon should have been seneschal, he needs to earn the loyalty and respect of his people."

"Mother, may I remind you how proud you were when it was announced…."

"I will always be proud of you, and the warrior you have become, but as your mother I wish you would move to a less combative position." Tangwen said.

Tirnion shook his head in disbelief, "How can you, yourself a warrior…"

"Who is now a councilor." Tangwen interrupted him.

"I am their leader…."

Tangwen gave her son a looked that often froze a lesser elf's blood, "Does King Thranduil ride out with each patrol? Does Lord Elrond? I assure you Lord Celeborn does not. What of Glorfindel? Is he off on every single one of his patrols? No, he is not. Why? Because he is a seneschal."

"And a captain, as am I. I will not be a seneschal who sits at his desk and…"

"Then you should hand the position over to someone who does sit at his desk and does his work from there. Either be a seneschal or be a captain, Tirnion, because being both is clearly tearing you apart." Tangwen stated, her eyes much warmer than her voice.

"Glorfindel does not…"

"Glorfindel not only has many ages on you, he has a whole other life. Furthermore, Imladris has three powerful leaders, not just one, and is in a far less precarious position than we are." Tangwen stood up, holding out a hand to her son, "Now, stop being a petulant elfling and let your mother tend to your wounds. It has been many years since I have healed a battle scarred warrior, but I believe I still have the skills."

"From all the cut knees and scrapped elbows from my childhood, I assure you, those skills have never left you." Tirnion placed an arm around his side, "I want to be both, mother. I want to prove I can be both."

"Tirnion…." Tangwen sighed as she placed a cool hand against his face, "this is not the time for your pride or your desires. You are no good to any of us exhausted and injured. If the captain gets hurt, his second can take the reigns; if the seneschal get hurts, there are chief councilors to handle the work, but when the one person who rules both those position becomes injured, it puts us at a great disadvantage." Tangwen let her hand fall to her son's shoulder, "And it makes you a very large target, especially with your connection to the other realms. Not just for an assassination, but for a kidnap and a torture as well."

"You truly want me to choose?" Tirnion asked his mother.

Tangwen held her son's face between her palms, "Tirnion, if I had my choice, you would have never left Imladris."

Tirnion bowed his head and pulled away from his mother, walking over to the fire. Water was already boiling, obviously set there long before her arrived. Silently, as he did as a child, he let his mother tend to his wounds.

Their actions were watched by the grey cat who did not care where he spent the rest of his years, as long as it was with his elf and it was comfortable. Though he would not mind seeing his siblings again.

* * *

**_Imladris, TA 2941_**

Two weeks had passed, quickly for some, slowly for most others, and the dwarves, the hobbit, and the wizard were preparing for their departure with the next dawn. It was just as well, the poor cooks and bakers were threatening to run away from the valley if they were forced to make anything else. With the extended visit of a large number of hearty appetites along with the impending task of making food for the Midsummer festival they were far more worked than they had been in years. Some of the eldest members of the staff who had accompanied Elrond from Lindon claimed feeding an army was less stressful.

To be fair, not all of the elves were annoyed with their new guests. Many of the minstrels found them quite amusing, both those with kind and with sadistic senses of humor. Only a handful of elves were truly disgusted with the guests and had loudly declared it was either them or the guests. Rian and Morwen were quite glad to see Thraien being escorted from the halls and Thandrog was only too happy to send her out to the Havens, even if he was ordered by Elrond to make certain she was not harmed until she met up with Gildor.

Whether or not the dwarves would say, they had also enjoyed themselves. The elves of Rivendell, they begrudgingly admitted, were not all that bad. Clearly, the bad reputation of the elves was only meant in regards to those who came from the woods.

The wizard and the hobbit were, perhaps, the only two willing to admit how much fun they had during the stay. Bilbo had become quite beloved by the elves, since many were only too happy to speak with a willing and eager audience. The scribes had adopted Bilbo as their own little, for lack of a nicer term, pet, as they taught him the basics of elvish handwriting, improving on the little knowledge he already carried.

As time does, life must also sadly go on. The two week stay was soon coming to its end and even though there had been two weeks to handle such matters, the chief elves of Imladris were rushing around to help prepare for their guests' departure.

Elrond was tied up in meetings with Erestor and Mithrandir as his eyes continually looked to the window. Someone had crossed into the land and while it was not his sons or Estel, he was secretly debating on whether or not to inform Erestor of their possible surprise guest. The Chief Councilor was already showing signs of reaching his wit's end, having sent both his wife and daughter running away from his temper, and Elrond did not wish to be the elf who finally pushed Erestor over the edge.

If Elrond had concentrated on the newcomer just a bit more, he would have realized it was not so much a guest who traveled into his lands, but one of its oldest residents.

* * *

Glorfindel sat in his office regarding the tasks before him. To be the seneschal or to be the captain, it was a debate. Truly, he wished to be neither at the moment. It was far too nice a day to spent stuck in an office either setting out patrol rosters or determining who could be spared for what escort. There was also the business of preparing his arguments against a certain suspicious member of the Wise. Glorfindel passed an envious look out of his window as he spied all the younger and certainly more carefree elves enjoying the games of Midsummer. He idly wondered if he should explain that tying a dwarf to a maypole was not proper behavior. Before he even had a chance to move, there was a knock on his office door. 

"Enter," Glorfindel said as he assumed the pose of the busy official.

"My lord Glorfindel, Balanauth has returned."

Glorfindel glanced upwards at the servant before him, giving him a small smile, "Please, send him in."

Glorfindel tracked Balanauth's slow and deliberate trek into his office. The elf lord knew well what Balanauth had come to tell him, even if it had not been written so plainly on the elf's face, Glorfindel had long held suspicions Balanauth would be asking to be relieved from his duties.

"Balanauth," Glorfindel said, "there is no need to be so timid."

"After a long visit from a group of rowdy dwarves, I need to judge your temperament." Balanauth said.

"Luckily for the dwarves, I have been completely charmed by their hobbit companion. I am almost sad to see them go." Glorfindel said.

"Truly?" Balanauth asked.

"I am sad to see Mr. Bilbo Baggins go." Glorfindel admitted. "He also enjoys listening to my own personal history, though is hardly impressed by it all. He did wonder how someone could be fool enough to take on a balrog and then wondered why I have received all the praise when Ecthelion slew four more than I."

"You were quickly re-born and sent back to Arda. I do believe that overshadows taking down five balrogs." Balanauth said.

Glorfindel laughed, "The next time I see Ecthelion I will have to ask him."

Balanauth glanced up, "He has been reborn?"

Glorfindel nodded, "Mithrandir informed me some time ago."

"How do you feel about that?" Balanauth asked, his tone quietly comforting.

Glorfindel stood up and walked over to the window.

"Do you still have guilt over being re-born and sent back over him?" Balanauth asked.

"Not nearly as much as I used to, though I do still wonder why they chose me out of all the fallen warriors sworn to Turgon's house."

"I think it is plainly obvious, Glorfindel." Balanauth said.

"Oh?" Glorfindel asked as he turned to face his friend.

"From what you have told me of your fellow warriors, you were the one most willing to be the face of the forces. You were the one most willing to become involved with both political and civilian matters, and most importantly, you of all had nothing to keep you back in Aman. Yes, you had your parents, but you did not have siblings, lovers, or children like the others. Furthermore, did you not tell me Ecthelion had truly wanted nothing more than to be a simple minstrel?"

"At the time we had been cleaning out the stables…" Glorfindel protested.

"Glorfindel, has it ever occurred to you that perhaps, just perhaps, Ecthelion was offered the chance to return to Arda and he refused it?" Balanauth asked.

Glorfindel laughed, "You offer me such advice and you wish for me to let you go off to another realm."

"Glorfindel, you have Erestor here and Elrond. Morwen now as well. The twins, if you would trust yourself to break down all the misconceptions of those stories you told them in their youth. Tirnion, more than any another, would not only willingly listen to the lessons you have to teach but needs them, especially now."

"How is it in Mirkwood?" Glorfindel asked.

"Either we fight the spiders, we help to fight the dragon, or we help to keep Dol Guldur at bay. We take merry making when we can, but everything is drawing closer, as it has been. Everyone is bracing for a war."

Glorfindel nodded, "They need you much more than we do."

"Imladris is not lacking in steadfast warriors, this is true." Balanauth agreed.

"You are aware how difficult it will be to replace you?" Glorfindel asked.

"There is always Thandrog." Balanauth said with a smile. "I must confess, I do not know who you shall appoint in my leaving….the twins…"

"No." Glorfindel stated. "The twins need to have the freedom to go off whenever they are needed to; they do not need to be burdened by all the excess duties. Their relationship with the Rangers is one of the most valuable things we have."

Balanauth nodded, slipping into his second-in-command mode, "They are essential to establishing contacts."

"Quite charming little elves." Glorfindel said.

"Could you recall Thalion?" Balanauth asked.

Glorfindel shook his head, "Eregeth is still making noise about sailing West. I hardly believe she will allow for a move back here."

"There is always another option." Balanauth said.

"Care to tell me?"

Balanauth shrugged, "A Mirkwood elf for an Imladris elf."

"There is no way Thranduil will…"

"Thranduil loves that boy like a son." Balanauth said.

"It would be a loss of power…" Glorfindel started.

"He needs it, Glorfindel." Balanauth insisted. "With the way Mirkwood is, no elf should be forced to hold position over all the forces for that long. Much less the two positions of seneschal and captain. There are only so many times an elf can inform a warrior's family he will not be returning before all sanity is lost."

"Does Thranduil have…."

"A replacement? Yes. And he is more than prepared to infuriate his whole court."

Admitting defeat Glorfindel asked, "When can he be spared to come here?"

"Not until after the White Council. Berenon is being sent in Thranduil's stead and Tirnion is currently off helping the people of Lake-town or helping to fight off the spiders. Most likely doing both."

"Have the spiders gotten worse?" Glorfindel asked.

"I would not recommend a midnight stroll down the Old Forest Road if that's what you are asking."

"I heard it was safer than the elf path." Glorfindel said.

"If you so wish to run through the treetops." Balanauth said.

Glorfindel studied Balanauth, "I am surprised you are not wearing greens and browns."

"I though it would be just slightly impertinent." Balanauth brushed a hand down the dark blue and the grey, "I have not worn these colors in quite some time."

Glorfindel placed a strong hand on his shoulder, "It will be one of the last times you will. As much as it pains me, I release you, Balanauth of Imladris, from your duties as second-in-command of the forces of Imladris and welcome you, Balanauth of Mirkwood, to our humble river valley."

Balanauth, refusing to acknowledge the watering of his eyes, placed a strong hand on Glorfindel's shoulder, "Thank you, my dear friend."

"You are most welcome." Glorfindel said. "Now, get out of here. You have packing to do and a lover in Mirkwood to return to. I do, however, demand an invitation to your bonding ceremony."

"I am sure I will need you there, if only to defend me from her brothers and cousins." Balanauth patted Glorfindel's shoulder, "Good luck, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel nodded, "Also to you."

He watched Balanauth leave as carefully as he watched him entered. Glorfindel sighed, moving his gaze to the window and then to his desk.

Perhaps it was time to pay a meddlesome wizard a visit.

* * *

Estel looked up at the sky as the sun began to set. Only a few more hours and then he would be home again. As much as he enjoyed this trip, he could not wait to see his mother and Elrond. 

Flinching as he heard Elrohir cutting through the hide of whatever animal would be their dinner tonight, Estel looked out over the clearing. Estel was not quite comfortable with hunting and cleaning yet, but Elrohir promised him that it was only to expected. Elladan even admitted while the hunting of an animal caused him little distress, he did not enjoy the cleaning. Estel had wish to hear the rest of Elladan's tale about his first cleaning, but Elrohir had quickly come down with a case of the giggles and was still somewhat held in their sway.

Elladan, needless to say, was still not amused.

"Brother, it is not proper for an elf to laugh while gutting an animal."

"It is if they are thinking of the first time father and Glorfindel tried to teach you how to clean a fish."

Elladan sniffed, "Mother understood my problem with the…"

"Mother never was one for the fishing and the hunting." Elrohir said, "Remember how she said even plucking a chicken had been too much for her?"

Elladan smiled, "She did not like snakes, though. She used one of father's favorite tomes to crush one."

Elrohir smiled, "Father was far too amused at her reaction to a small garden snake to even be upset with her."

Estel quietly watched both the twins, greedily absorbing the tale of their mother. The twins did not speak of her often and Estel had learned long ago to stop asking questions about her. If he had any, he sought out Glorfindel or Erestor. Estel still loved to hear anything he could about her, of the beautiful elf whose portrait hung in Elrond's private study. Estel had never seen an elf with such hair except Tirnion and Haldir, but Elrond promised him one day he would travel to the Golden Wood and see so many elves with silver and golden hair and light eyes he would soon understand why elves such as Erestor, Faeleth, Eluialeth and Morwen were considered exotic. As dark as the others were light, Elrond had told him.

Elladan and Elrohir were still caught up in their memories, so Estel huddled closer to the large fire (one he had made all on his own) and waited for the stars to come. He still did not know if he believed Elladan when he said his grandfather was one of the bright shining stars, but if Elladan chose to believe such a thing, who was Estel to tell him it was foolish? Perhaps Elladan's mother had told him such a thing. And Estel knew, just like any smart child, a mother was always right.

* * *

Glorfindel found Mithrandir out in the gardens, enjoying the singing that had already begun in preparation for the every approaching night. He regarded the wizard with smirked lips and a quirked brow, wondering again how it was Mithrandir always got away with smoking that atrocious pipe weed in Elrond's garden. 

Sitting down beside him, Glorfindel said, "Before you leave, I wish to bring to you my…"

"Your concerns would be better heard at the council, Glorfindel." Mithrandir answered. "And your suspicions best be confirmed as fact by then."

Glorfindel shook his head, "For once could you simply pretend you do not know my intent before I make it clear?"

"Why waste precious time with things such as formalities?" Mithrandir asked.

"When have formalities ever existed between us?" Glorfindel asked.

"You were quite the proper subordinate when I first met you." Mithrandir said, brining his pipe away from his lips.

"I was twenty and you were not so…." Glorfindel looked over the wizard, "Bearded, scraggly, and grey. "

Mithrandir gave Glorfindel a dark look, "Some people feel old age in a sign of…"

"Are those people elves?" Glorfindel asked.

"No." Mithrandir said, fleeing the urge to smoke again.

Glorfindel winched as Mithrandir cleaned his pipe, knocking ash into the flower beds.

Mithrandir relit the pipe and shook his head at the elf, "Oh stop it, Glorfindel. It came from the ground and back to the ground it shall go. A little ash will not harm the flowers."

"You could at least ask the flowers how they feel about…." Glorfindel trailed off as he saw Mithrandir's look, "Do not pretend you do not also have conversations with nature."

"I was merely wondering why you harbor such suspicions in regards to my fellow wizards. You are far too suspicious of other people in power."

"No harm can come from investigating my suspicions." Glorfindel said, understanding the game they were playing.

"With the exception of a political uproar Arda has not seen in many centuries." Mithrandir brought the pipe to his lips, "Why must you pursue this?"

Glorfindel spoke with a soft tone, "Because I know well how it is to be betrayed by one of your own, one who is in power, one is supposed to be loyal to the greater good, the Wise, one who is tied by the closet thing possible, blood, and one who opened the door and made way for the enemy. I disregarded my suspicions once in my life, you will forgive me if I do not do so again in my current one."

"Glorfindel, I respect your wisdom and your experience but I must ask you one thing."

"Yes?"

"Is the risk worth it? You are no longer merely putting yourself in danger." Mithrandir said.

Glorfindel gave Mithrandir a dark look, "I thought you did not listen to idle gossip."

"What is true is not idle nor gossip. Furthermore, idle gossip has provided me with more information than any well rehearsed speech out of a courtier's mouth."

Glorfindel studied his hands for a long time. Finally he raised his eyes to meet Mithrandir's own, "Yes, the risk is worth it."

"And if you suspicions prove true?" Mithrandir asked.

"I will handle the situation with grace and forethought." Glorfindel said.

"No riding off into the darkness?" Mithrandir asked.

Glorfindel shrugged, "I have more I wish to protect now. I fear my days of riding off into the darkness are few."

"Then why must you do this? We all have the common goal of fighting Sauron."

"Because fear, power, and greed change people. Even those with the most pure souls. It is even more dangerous when one who claims to lead the Wise finds themselves contemplating a path of darkness. They are able to persuade with words, promises, and actions." Glorfindel stated, "I need to counter-act that, if only winning over one small village at a time."

Mithrandir sighed, "Glorfindel, the time of the elves…"

"I do not do this for the elves." Glorfindel said.

"Then why?" Mithrandir asked.

"Because there are hobbits who know nothing of dark lords. Because there are dwarves wanting to reestablish their mines. Because there are young boys just learning how to make a camp fire and young girls just learning how to sew a doll's dress. Because my second-in-command is leaving me to marry a wood elf and I want them to raise a child in a peaceful world. Because I want Morwen to be able to visit Tirnion whenever she feels the whim. Because I want Rian to no longer fear the Red Horn Pass. Because I want the twins to forget their vendetta against the orcs. Because I want Elrond to be able to sail with a clear conscious and a light heart."

Mithrandir smiled, "Ah, I see. You do this for purely selfish reasons."

"Yes." Glorfindel said.

Blowing out a smoke ring Mithrandir shook his head and handed a small token to Glorfindel, "I have a set of writings hidden in the library behind a few volumes of lore no one ever touches. This token will open the lock. I do not know what you shall find therein and if any will help you rest your fears or prove your suspicions, but who am I to stand in the way of such selfish desires."

Glorfindel smiled, "Thank you, Mithrandir."

"I suppose you should thank Morwen, since I somehow believe she will be the one attempting to discern my handwriting." Mithrandir said.

Glorfindel ducked his head, "She does have more experience with it than I do."

Mithrandir laughed, "Go on, Glorfindel. You have a councilor to corrupt and I have to spend the night showing Elrond a dwarven map."

"Hidden locations?" Glorfindel asked.

"I suspect. Elrond knows far more than I do in regards to maps."

Glorfindel left the quietly contemplating wizard in the gardens as he made his way to the library.

* * *

Elrond gave one last glance to the swords and daggers that lay on the table next to him. He could feel a shudder work its way down his spine as he again read the runes engraved into the blades. Gondolin. Spoils of war. One of those blades could have been Glorfindel's. Or Ecthelion's. Or any number of elves who had fallen as their city fell. It almost seemed right that Mithrandir now held the blade of Turgon in his hand. So ancient, so old, blades of war that had been held in a goblin's keep. Weapons ripped out of the hands of the dead. 

Elrond took a deep breath before asking the dwarf Thorin to show him the map Mithrandir insisted he needed to study.

Dragons. Elrond did not particularly like dragons. They were ancient creatures, creatures not to be toyed with and creatures who did not hesitate to take many lives if only to gain a little treasure.

Yes, it was quite easy to say Elrond despised dragons. Smaug was certainly not a dragon he was fond of. The fire-drake had already destroyed Dale almost two centuries ago and was now harassing the people of Lake-town.

Elrond studied the map, raising it up to the catch the light of the candles and of the moon His eyes widened in surprise as runes began to shimmer on the page. Elrond crinkled his brow, moon-letters? But… Holding the map up directly to the moon light the runes appeared again.

Elrond turned to his guests and smiled, hardly believing what he had just discovered. Really, it was understandable if Thorin may have missed this detail but Mithrandir, that would just infuriate the wizard. Elrond felt his smile widen. Moon-letters.

Dwarves really were far too cautious.

* * *

Glorfindel strode into the library, giving kind smiles to all who came in his path. Finding Morwen at one of the long tables, he quickly hurried over to her side. 

Glorfindel leaned over Morwen's shoulder, his golden hair mixing with the stands of her dark tresses, "Remember that favor we spoke about?" he breathed into her ear.

Morwen simply nodded, not letting her face betray her reaction to the hot breath on her neck.

Glorfindel moved closer to her side, leaning into her neck to make certain no other heard his words, "There is a set of annals which Mithrandir has kept here in Imladris located behind a certain set of lore books; he claims they have not been touched in many years."

"If Mithrandir is half the being I believe he is, there were be more than neatly folded up pieces of parchment behind these volumes." Morwen said, as she glared at one of the younger scribes who was openly staring at them. The scribe made a small sound of distress before hurrying out of the library.

Glorfindel laughed softly, "Keep practicing and you may be able to glare just as well as Elrond." He moved to sit beside her, a hand massaging her neck, pressing against the links of her necklace. "Mithrandir is indeed smarter than that, which is why you will take this token," Morwen breathed in harshly as something cold was pressed between the skin of her neck and the cool metal of the chain, "and use it to unlock the protective case it is held in." Glorfindel said as he pulled the chain tight, not enough to choke her but enough to secure the object. He softly smiled as the pendent of her necklace rose up, displaying it for all to see, even if they did not understand what it meant.

"Is there a set date when you wish for this research to be completed?" Morwen asked.

Glorfindel softly hummed as he pressed a kiss to Morwen's hair, "Before the council. Sometime before the Autumnal."

"Do you happen to know which language it is written in?" Morwen asked.

"If I know Mithrandir, each page will contain many different languages, perhaps even varying by words in the sentence." Glorfindel said.

"This will take many long hours, Glorfindel." Morwen said.

"I am more than willing to sacrifice Thandrog's time in the name of helping to take over your duties." Glorfindel said.

"Oh, not Thandrog." Morwen protested.

Glorfindel softly laughed, "Elrohir then. His penmanship is much better than your own. It might make a few of the courtier's year to have their replies to their mindless inquiries written by Elrohir."

Glorfindel stood up and held out a hand to Morwen, "Let us go join the others in song and dance. I fear this may be one of the last times Balanauth will attend and I would rather be there to share it with him."

"Should I not get started on the…" Morwen stopped as Glorfindel pressed a finger to her lips.

"No," he said, "not now. Let us have this night for one less worry. We can at least enjoy the night in the knowledge that you are not yet breaking Elrond and Erestor's trust and I am not yet risking both of our necks, not to mention positions, if this all ends horribly."

Shaking her head Morwen stood up, gathering her papers. "If we are forced to flee, you will be doing all the hunting and cleaning."

"I would never dream of allowing you to clean an animal again. I do not wish to remove fish entrails from my hair like Elladan so clearly desired." Glorfindel said.

Morwen sniffed as she adjusted her hair, making sure the back of her neck was covered, "It was clearly Elladan's fault for mocking the size of my fish."

"Oh, I would never dare argue with you, especially when you are wielding a knife." Glorfindel said as he guided Morwen out of the library. "You do know we will be seeing Haldir again."

"Yes, I am aware." Morwen muttered.

"Do not try to 'accidentally almost castrate' him again." Glorfindel said.

"I make no guarantees." Morwen answered, quickly ducking into her own office to drop off her work and remove the token from the back of her neck.

"It has been many years since a Midsummer has passed without Elladan and Elrohir." Morwen said as she re-emerged.

Glorfindel rested his arm on her side, "They are not so far away, I could retrieve them for you if it is your desire."

Morwen shook her head, "Elrond is adamant about not wanting Estel to meet Mithrandir at this time and I will not risk that."

Glorfindel playfully pouted, "I could make a comment about how I should be the only one you need."

"Which would be so far from true I would have to either slap you or laugh until my stomach hurt. Either way it ends in pain."

Glorfindel made a small sound of agreement and Morwen grew quiet as they made their way out into the gardens. Glorfindel let his hand linger on her arm for a moment, giving Morwen a long look before he turned and joined Balanauth and the soldiers and she turned and joined Eluialeth and the councilors.

* * *

Elrond cautiously approached Glorfindel's bedroom door, praying to any who would listen that Morwen was still in the library as she had been only an hour ago. After the Midsummer ceremony, Glorfindel had claimed he was leaving to check on the ponies of their guests while Erestor and Morwen both insisted they needed to return to the library. Elrond only hoped Morwen was still buried deep within in the stacks for Elrond did not know how Glorfindel would handle the information he was about to share. Knocking softly, Elrond stood and waited. 

Glorfindel opened the door with a confused look, no doubt having sensed who was on the other side, "Elrond, has something happened?"

Elrond quickly shook his head, "No, nothing so grave. I was merely wondering if I could speak with you for a moment."

Glorfindel studied Elrond for some time and then finally opened his door wider to let Elrond inside. Glorfindel motioned over to the chairs that were placed near the balcony. Elrond took his seat and then studied his companion. There was an unease to Glorfindel, a cautious look in his eyes.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?" Elrond asked.

Glorfindel smirked, "Are you asking me if there is something I wish to tell you or are you telling me I have something to tell you?"

Elrond chuckled softly, "I think it may be a bit of both. Balanauth was relieved without my formal permission."

Glorfindel appeared to relax at Elrond's words, "With all due respect, my lord, I am your captain and your seneschal there are times when I may make a formal call over you."

"Indeed." Elrond agreed. "Have you picked a replacement yet?"

"I am pondering possible replacements. It all depends." Glorfindel said.

"On?" Elrond asked.

"How the next few months play out. I am waiting to see the results of the council, how that goes will determine who I will choose, with your leave of course."

"Of course." Elrond said, his tone more amused than insulted. "Who will serve in the interim?"

"I am contemplating using Baineth, but I do not wish to insult her by eventually placing her in a lower position again. I would much rather have her commanding the sentinels anyway. I fear," Glorfindel sighed, "I may have to use Thandrog."

Elrond tried to cover his laugh by coughing but Glorfindel's look told him he was clearly unsuccessful. "Thandrog is a good solider," Elrond tried, "and he knows your routine."

"Thandrog is one of the most mischievous elves I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. He is more likely to heal a bird than kill an orc. However, he is a good soldier and is quite loyal to us. He only tends to have a loose mouth when he has consumed far too much alcohol and thankfully, that only appears to happen once a century."

"He has watched his intake since the last incident." Elrond said through clenched teeth. They still had yet to return that particular statue of Varda to her once pristine glory.

Glorfindel was clearly biting his lips to keep from smiling, "As much as I am sure we would both enjoy reminiscing on Imladris' mischievous youth, I assume you came here with a purpose."

Elrond nodded, "I did, indeed." he said as he stood up and walked over to the balcony. His eyes were drawn towards the sky, his gaze focused on a particular star, his mind briefly flooded with fading memories of a father he never truly knew. Taking a deep breath he prepared himself for what he was about to say, knowing there was no kind way to say it.

"The daggers they carry, the hobbit, Mithrandir, and the dwarves," Elrond said, "they are remnants from Gondolin."

"Are you certain?" Glorfindel demanded, frozen in face and form.

"The style of the engravings on the blades confirms it." Elrond stated. "The sword Mithrandir carries bears the title of Turgon. They are blades of Gondolin, no other blades have been made carrying those runes and that language." Elrond said. He studied Glorfindel for a moment, "Would you like to see them?" he asked.

Glorfindel vigorously shook his head, "I cannot, Elrond. I….I cannot. Some things," Glorfindel took a breath, "some things are meant to be lost, forgotten, and to find new purpose in new hands." Glorfindel stood up and began to pace, he looked out into the sky, "They are not daggers of Gondolin; Gondolin no longer exists."

"Glorfindel…" Elrond started.

Glorfindel paused in his pacing, a look both fury filled and saddened on his face, "If the trolls had them, I can almost promise they were ripped off the dead and burning bodies of the fallen. I cannot see them, Elrond, it would be far too painful. Even for me." Glorfindel gave a weak smile, "Perhaps in different hands they will defeat the evil forces which took them away from their original owners."

Elrond nodded, "If you are certain…"

"I am," Glorfindel said. "I am very certain." Glorfindel looked down at his hands, "Not to be rude, Elrond, but I wish to be alone now."

Elrond reached a hand out, "Glorfindel…"

"Please." Glorfindel asked, his voice soft.

Elrond pressed a firm hand onto Glorfindel's shoulder, "If you need to talk…."

"I know where you and Erestor will be." Glorfindel said. "Happy Midsummer, Elrond." Glorfindel stated.

"Happy Midsummer, Glorfindel." Elrond whispered as he made his way to the door.

* * *

Morwen stood in the stacks of the library, a lamp hanging off one of the hooks as she moved from one set of forgotten volumes to another. It was quite amazing to see how much dust elven books could gather when no one paid them any mind. Elrond would be furious if he saw this. 

"Morwen?" Rian asked.

Morwen visibly jumped before she whirled around, pulling her hand away from the bookshelf. "Rian?" Morwen asked, her voice in a high pitched tone, "What….what are you doing here?"

"Doing research. A novel concept really, research in a library." Her eyes strayed to the books Morwen was standing near. "Works on the Istari? Do you find Mithrandir mystifying?"

"Not particularly," Morwen said, "I am merely doing a bit of research really. Understanding the Istari in the grander scheme of things."

"Glorfindel would know, would he not? I heard he knew Mithrandir in the Blessed Realm."

Morwen nodded, "Yes, well, Glorfindel is quite busy. Conferences to prepare for, ponies to watch over, sleep to be had…Rian, why are you here at this time of night?"

"I could ask the same of you." Rian said. She peered at her foster-sister, "Morwen, you are completely covered in dust. What have you been doing tonight?"

Morwen briefly wondered when her skills for quick thinking had abandoned her, "I was…er…you see..I was attempting to locate a misplaced volume. Research, you know."

"And your misplaced volume so happened to be located in the stacks where I do not think any elf has been for twenty years?" Rian asked.

"Perfectly good place for a misplaced volume. Putting it in a place no one would ever dare look." Morwen said as she carefully deposited the metal token-key into her braid, praying it would stay put.

Rian reached a hand out quickly, pressing it to Morwen's face, "You feel cool, perhaps you should go rest."

"Rian, I am…."

"Rian? Morwen?" Lord Elrond asked as he came into the library.

Both she-elves quickly acknowledged their foster-father, eyes downcast as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

"What are you two doing here in these stacks? These books are never used." Elrond said.

"We are looking for a misplaced volume." Morwen said.

"Research, you know." Rian added.

"In these stacks?" Elrond asked.

"Perfectly good place for a misplaced volume." Rian said.

"Right," Morwen agreed, "no one would dare look in this area."

Elrond studied the both of them for a longer time, clearly amused as the two she-elves began to cower under his gaze. Elrond shrugged, "Fine explanation to me." he said.

Both Morwen and Rian slowly let out their long held breathes.

Elrond smiled down at them, "While I hate to end this search for forgotten lore, I am afraid I need Morwen for a task of mine."

"Me?" Morwen asked.

"You." Rian said as she moved to leave the library, "Good Midsummer to you both!" she exclaimed as she made her exit.

Morwen watched her go with narrowed eyes, silently promising to seek her revenge. Morwen jumped slightly as Elrond touched her shoulder.

"Morwen, I fear you are becoming paranoid." Elrond said.

"Oh, no, my lord, just late at night. Dark room. Unknown drunken guests wandering about. I am simply being cautious."

"Of course," Elrond said.

"You have a task for me?" Morwen asked.

"Right, yes, of course." Elrond said. "I need you to go see to Glorfindel, I fear something I told him has upset our dear friend."

"What did you…" Morwen started but cut herself off in surprise as Elrond pushed her out of the library.

"Best to ask him, I'm afraid. Good Midsummer." Elrond said as he closed the door to the library behind him and nudged Morwen in the direction of Glorfindel's rooms.

Morwen stood for a moment and regarded the retreating back of Elrond as she shook her head.

Midsummer was clearly ushering in a reign of nonsense, briefness and down right lack of manners.

* * *

Glorfindel glanced up from his place on the balcony floor as Morwen made her way into the room. She glanced around, removing something from her braid and placing it on his dresser before she made her way over to him. 

"Elrond send you?" Glorfindel asked as she settled down beside him.

"Of course," Morwen said as she snuggled into his side, "he upset you?"

Glorfindel began to tug Morwen's hair free of its braid, "He did not so much upset me as what he told me upset me."

"Do you wish to tell me?" Morwen asked.

Glorfindel caressed her face, "Perhaps in the morning, I do not want to think anymore of it tonight."

Morwen titled her head into Glorfindel's caress., "You were quiet for most of the day."

"I have been thinking about many things." Glorfindel said.

"Such as?"

"The past. We both know I have a large past to think about." Glorfindel said.

"Balanauth's leaving had nothing to do with it?" Morwen asked.

Glorfindel laughed as he moved his hands back to undoing her braid, "How can I deny him the right to happiness. Though I do wish he would tell me just who it is he will marry."

Morwen smiled, "I know."

Glorfindel, startled, laughed, "Oh, you do, do you?"

Morwen nodded, "Tirnion told me ages ago."

Glorfindel leaned down and let his lips brush Morwen's, "And will you tell me?" he asked.

Morwen gave him a bright smile, "Perhaps in the morning."

"Using my own words against me?" Glorfindel asked as he kissed her. "You are such a councilor." He whispered as he pulled away.

* * *

Glorfindel stood next to Morwen and Erestor, waving off the traveling party of wizard, hobbit, and dwarves. 

"You know, I shall miss that little hobbit, though I am not certain why." Glorfindel confessed.

"Oh, I know." Morwen said with an all too knowing smirk.

"Would you care to enlighten us?" Erestor asked.

"I suppose I must," Morwen said, "it is quite simple, you know. The reason you shall miss Mr. Baggins is because he in no way reveres you as an elf of lore and legend. To Mr. Baggins, you are simply that old elf who claims to be older than Lord Elrond, whom he does revere."

"Elrond has maps." Erestor said, "And Mr., Baggins loves maps."

"I have maps." Glorfindel said.

"But apparently lack in formidable character." Elrond said as he approached them. "Well, my fellows, and Morwen," Elrond said, "we have a council to plan for."

"Whatever happened to my pony duty?" Glorfindel asked. "Do you not remember, when you banished me from your office?"

"You have been reinstated to work in my office." Elrond said. "Now come, let us get as much work done as possible before my sons return."

Elrond walked back inside, Erestor following him.

Morwen turned to Glorfindel, "Did he just include Estel in his…"

Glorfindel nodded, quite surprised, "Yes, I believe he did." Glorfindel pressed a hand to his brow, "Why do I have a feeling this will not bode well for the future?"

"Because it probably will not." Morwen said with a shrug, "But what can we do?"

Glorfindel followed her inside, "We could make a run for it."

Morwen snorted, "You truly want to take me away from books and parchment for that long? And you from your ranges?"

Glorfindel nodded, "You are, of course, correct, we would murder each other."

"It would be mutual murder, somehow, in our sleep." Morwen said.

"A legend for the Hall of Fire." Glorfindel said.

"Why two meddlesome elves should never…"

"Will you two stop dallying with whatever you are doing and get in here?" Erestor demanded.

Sharing one last amused glance, Morwen and Glorfindel hurried into Elrond's office.

* * *

A/N 1: Events from this chapter can be found in _The Hobbit_, chapter three, "A Short Rest." Tolkien explains moon-runes much better than I will ever be capable of doing. 

A/N 2: For those who read the additional set of stories in this arc ("Once I Was" and "Anamnesis") a new "Once I Was" story has been added to the livejournal (click the homepage link in my profile or do an lj search for windwailing..or do one for rivlee and then go to windwailing) entitled "Tales of Ale." The story timeline has also been updated, some future stories added and some upcoming story titles changed. There is also a timeline you can access that lists important events of this universe, containing both incidents from the "Legend, Lore, and Lullabies" set and from Tolkien canon. For those who keep up with the old website that has also been updated. Finally, expect a new one-shot in the "Sleeping with Ghosts" story set to be up within the next few days.

A/N 3: Thanks:

**Nima**: Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter. And yes, expect Tom to pop up a few times more. Don't worry for Tirnion, I adore the boy, really I do, and could never see him on the brink of no return. There was supposed to be more of Tirnion this chapter, alas, the others kind of took over. Luckily, we will soon be in Mirkwood. Thank you, again, for sticking with all the many stories in this very big story arc.


	7. With A Tumble Down A Rabbit Hole

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien and all the affiliated companies.**

**Warning: Again, very long chapter. Can be read in two parts on the lj. **

**A Journey Begins…**

_**Chapter Seven:….with a tumble down a rabbit hole**_

_**Alice:** How do you know I'm mad?  
**The Cat:** You must be. Or you wouldn't have come here._

-Lewis Carroll, _Alice in Wonderland_

_**Imladris, July, TA 2941**_

When they were younger, Elladan and Morwen had played a game of mutual annoyance called "hanging on" by the children and "an accident waiting to happen" by Elrond. The children enjoyed the game, which could safely handle from two to fifteen participants without causing too much damage to the house and its various occupants, be they being or object. The game entailed, much as it name might reveal, one person clinging to the other until the clinging person either fell off or the person who was being clung to forcibly removed the clinger. As the years went on and the children grew, the game had become more difficult and was rarely resorted to in their older and wiser years. Today, alas, foolishness of the past was brought into modern times and Erestor and Elrond watched, both with ever increasing headaches, as Elladan attempted to walk the halls with Morwen clinging to his back.

"What…" Gilraen began to ask, having rarely seen the councilor and the lord's son acting so undignified.

Elrond, shaking his head at the behavior of younger elves, said, "Morwen would not reveal to Elladan something she has begun to research and Elladan, in his lack of wisdom, decided to retaliate by stealing her notes and keeping them securely close to his person. Morwen is, as you can see, trying to persuade him to let them go."

"I fear today is not a day Estel should be learning from either one of them." Gilraen muttered as she watched the friends continue their game. Both elves were pulling on each other's hair and it was beginning to become difficult to discern where one ended and the other began, their dark hair and blue clothes meshing together.

Morwen let out a gasp as she received an elbow to side before pinching Elladan on the waist. She held on as Elladan bodily flinched in shock.

Gilraen smiled, "Well, if that is all they are going to do to each other….." she trailed off as the game progressed.

Erestor and Elrond watched in fascinated horror as Elladan began swinging around in an odd little dance to dislodge Morwen. Morwen, showing she was not only mentally and verbally tenacious but physically as well, appeared quite content to stay attached to Elladan's back.

"You keep this up and Estel really will start calling you 'horsey' again." Morwen stated as she gave Elladan a peaceful smile.

Elladan, attempting to turn his head around to meet her eyes and eventually failing stated in clear annoyance, "Morwen, I have to go on patrol."

Morwen gave a small pout but refused to be dislodged, "Elladan, I have to do research."

"Morwen," Elladan whined, "I have not been on patrol in weeks."

"Elladan," Morwen mocked, "that is hardly my fault. I was not the one who took another two weeks off of patrol duty in order to spend time with…"

"Rian." Elladan said. "Rian, your dear foster sister…"

"Also yours if one is being…"

"AND…" Elladan stated, clearly ignoring Morwen's comment, "your friend. I am sure you would not deny her happiness."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" She asked, quickly moving her ankle away from Elladan's wandering hands.

"Morwen, honestly!" Elladan stated.

"All you have to do, Elladan," Morwen said, "is return to me what is mine and you will be free to go on your patrol."

"I will gladly return to you what is yours as soon as you tell me what it is." Elladan said, moving his hands in an attempt to flip Morwen over.

Morwen, taking advantage of Elladan's movements quickly flipped over his head and, in a move that would have made any lady of the night proud, Morwen quickly reached under Elladan's tunic, fingers briefly running somewhere vaguely obscene and then, with an exaggerated flourish, her hands emerged with the prized documents.

Elladan stopped his wiggling in shock, "Does Glorfindel know you do such things to other elves?" he asked.

Morwen, having her small jig of victory interrupted, gave Elladan a glare worthy of the dark lord himself.

Really, no one should have been quite surprised by the chase that followed.

"It is so lovely seeing the children being children." Faeleth said as she came into the room, Estel at her side.

Elladan took advantage of the open door, quickly dashing through. Morwen gifted Faeleth with a nod, Estel with a smile, and then took hold of the nearest book and ran after Elladan, threatening his life the entire way.

Estel, eyes widened in shock, asked, "Mother, what…."

Gilraen shrugged as she stood next to her son, pushing a piece of hair behind a tanned ear, "I fear, Estel, even your older friends are still children."

Hearing a crash and then the distinct laughter of Glorfindel, Gilraen rushed to the door.

"Is everyone well?" she asked.

Glorfindel strode into the room, brushing dust off of his clothing, "I am certain everyone is quite well, though I do wonder what Elladan has done."

Elrond gazed at Glorfindel with cool eyes, "Elladan came across some research Morwen was doing. Apparently it is secretive as neither I nor Erestor know quite what she has gotten into."

Glorfindel smiled at Elrond, passing by Estel and slipping him a sweet.

"I am sorry, Elrond," Glorfindel said, "I asked Morwen to do some research for me in order to give Tirnion more advice. They have so many fronts to battle and are in need of knowing what soldiers can go where; what strengths to focus on and which weaknesses to fight. I am sorry if her work has upset you; if anyone is to be blamed it would be me."

Erestor laughed, "Glorfindel, you act as if her research is a crime. There is nothing so serious."

Elrond nodded, his eyes saying far more than his voice, "Indeed, Glorfindel, no harm and no foul. I only wonder if I can offer some assistance."

Glorfindel smiled, "I believe you have offered what assistance you had before and it has been taken into consideration."

"It was not helpful?" Elrond asked.

"It was not what I was looking for." Glorfindel said.

"Perhaps you should stop looking then." Elrond said.

"I fear the answer may still be found and therefore will not stop until I am convinced I am wrong." Glorfindel said.

Elrond studied him for another moment before bowing his head, "Then you, and Morwen, have my blessing and access to any materials you may need."

Glorfindel nodded his head, "Thank you, my lord, for your kindness."

Gilraen did not know much of elven politics but she knew enough of nature and emotion to sense the underlying conversation. They were not speaking of mere research, something deeper was hidden in the words. Erestor appeared to have finally understood the hidden meaning as he let out a disgusted sigh.

"Glorfindel, are you still on about that?" Erestor asked.

Elrond held up a hand to silence his friend, "Erestor, Glorfindel's instincts have never led us to harm before, I daresay they have saved us. If Glorfindel feels the overwhelming need to research these matters, then I bid him to do so."

"It is confidential information." Erestor said. "It is only to be known by a handful and having Morwen study it will mean.."

"Will mean what?" Glorfindel asked.

"Is her safety worth the risk of your paranoia?" Erestor asked.

Glorfindel's eyes grew cold, "Are all of our lives worth the risk of your politics?"

Gilraen looked down as she felt Estel tug her hand. Gilraen kneeled, smiling as her son chewed on his treat.

"Yes, dear heart?" she asked.

"Mother, why would anyone be at risk because of research?" Estel asked.

Gilraen passed a look to the elves locked in a verbal battle, obviously forgetting the presence of the woman and her child.

"Estel, some things are not meant for all to know. There are those who guard some information as if it was the biggest treasure to ever be hoarded. They will go to great lengths to protect that information."

"But Elrond knows everything." Estel said.

Gilraen laughed as she stood up, pushing Estel toward the door, "While that may be, just because Elrond may know something he may not be able to believe it. Or prove it. Knowing is always different from believing." Gilraen said as she closed the door and left the elves to their debate.

* * *

_**Mirkwood, TA 2941**_

Tirnion did not often stray into the council room of Mirkwood. Despite the large number of councilors and councilors-in-training in his life, the council room was another realm entirely. It was a strange land Tirnion only ventured into when ordered to do so. As a seneschal he knew duty would dictate his presence there, but Thranduil was far too concerned with the security of the realm to waste Tirnion's time in dull meetings on the syrup trade. The rare time an active soldier was called to the council room was to face a realm-wide reprimand. Tirnion had never agreed with such a practice, nor did his mother to be fair. Actions on the battlefield mattered in the context and the time of an event and a warrior's justice was far different than that of a councilor's.

Having councilors hand down their justice on a warrior was like having a warrior hand down their justice on a councilor. They were two different arenas; two different types of wars.

He never quite understood how his mother survived it.

Tangwen had been one of the first female warriors of any rank in Greenwood. Oropher had realized, if but a little reluctantly, that Greenwood needed all the warriors it could find, no matter if they could bear children or not. He had even more reluctantly permitted her a place as an assistant to members of the council, seeing her for the brilliant mind she was. Tangwen had not seen the Last Alliance as a warrior, though her husband had. She had been raising children, helping Laeriel, the secret wife of Prince Thranduil, who had in fact become the King on the death of his father, raise the next heirs to the throne. She helped to train any and all reserve warriors they had; even some of the humans from the surrounding realms who wanted to lend aid.

It seemed quite clear, upon reflection at least, Tangwen managed to balance the warrior with the councilor in those years. She helped make decisions which kept the realm stable and surviving as so many went to the battle lines, to never return. That was the reason, Tirnion supposed, there was said to be no objection when Thranduil elected Tangwen to the council. No one had anything negative say when she was elected the first senior female councilor.

All the years Tirnion had lived in Mirkwood, he had never spent much time in those halls. His mother was one of the best councilors, his sisters not so far behind, but closed doors and dark halls were not his home. If Tirnion could not be out amongst the trees and under the sky, he would quickly take that next ship to the Undying Lands.

He stood before the council doors and studied the intricate carvings. Each set of carvings showed a different event in the history of the Sindar. These were their greatest achievements and their harshest punishments. These scenes were placed before the council chamber in order to remind all what a good or bad judgment could bring. His hands briefly caressed the carving of a broad-shouldered elf on a battlefield, obviously dead, being clutched in the arms of a much slimmer elf. The faces were nondescript, but all knew it was Oropher's death, his final breath in the arms of his son.

Tirnion closed his eyes as his felt the whispers of the past pull him into memory.

_Mother had been crying for days, Ormeril clutched to her side. Arodeth had long ago stopped crying, saying something about too many tears having already fallen. _

_He knew his father was gone. He knew he was never returning. That much, Tirnion did know. _

_He did not feel the tears the way his mother did. He was not filled with silent rage like Arodeth. In later years, Tirnion would know he had gone numb. _

_Now he stood before the door, staring at the pictures carved into the wood. Arodeth had told him to go to the council chamber and find their aunt Laeriel. _

_His eyes traveled farther and farther upward as they stared in wonderment and fear at the door. _

_He reached out a hand to touch one of the carvings but was pulled back by a hand on his arm._

_He looked up into a regal face and leaf green eyes. He saw the crown of berries and the braids of royalty and quickly ducked his head, this must be the new king all the elves talked about. _

_Aunt Laeriel had said the King was a kind elf. Aunt Laeriel had said she knew the King well and that he would always watch out for their family. _

_He had never met the new King, having been kept away from the court more often than no.. The feast days were never any fun because aunt Laeriel and uncle Thranduil weren't able to visit, always having some duty with the King. During the rare feast days they were not in attendance, Laeriel usually told stories from her time in the west and Thranduil would tell him how Berenon's training was progressing and what the forest had to report for the day. Due to the King and his business neither one of his mother's friends had visited very often._

_The King reached out a hand, "Tirnion?" he asked,_

_He flinched back in shock as he heard the voice. "Thranduil?" he asked. "Why is there a…"_

_Thranduil smiled, his regal face becoming much more familiar, "I will tell you about it much later. Why are you…"_

"_Arodeth told me to find aunt Laeriel; mother is starting to get sick. Arodeth doesn't think I know, but I heard the healers whispering about it and Claurion has been searching in the woods for all sorts of plants."_

_Thranduil's smile wavered for a moment before he spoke again. "Tirnion, I am certain the healers will do their best to return your mother to health." _

_Tirnion watched as Thranduil pressed a hand to the door and closed his eyes, his brow furrowing._

_Thranduil stood up and held a hand out to Tirnion, "Tirnion, have you seen the armory?"_

_Tirnion shook his head in negative. "I've not seen much of the palace."_

"_Come with me then, I will show you how to repair a sword hilt. Berenon should be doing that at this moment."_

"_But…" Tirnion started as he took Thranduil's hand, surprised as the tingling of warmth he felt. _

"_Do not worry, young one," Thranduil said, "Laeriel is on her way to your mother's side."_

_As Tirnion followed Thranduil he heard the door to the council room open and the familiar whisper of skirts against a floor, hurriedly moving toward the healing halls. _

"Why do you always insist on hesitating out here?" Thranduil asked as he stood beside Tirnion.

Tirnion was no longer a young elfling who had just lost his father, being both distracted and comforted by an elf who had lost his own mere years before. Now Tirnion stood shoulder to shoulder with Thranduil. Now Tirnion could match his mother's friend in wit and skill. Still, Tirnion knew he was not too old to learn from his superior.

Tirnion laughed, feeling some of the numbness fade as it had all those years ago when he had reached for Thranduil's hand.

"You must admit the doors cause one to contemplate the meaning of things…"

"Things, Tirnion?" Thranduil asked, "Clearly all that travel throughout the world has left you with a most enviable vocabulary."

Tirnion gave a quiet shrug and turned back to the doors.

Thranduil tapped his shoulder, "Are you not going to enter?"

"I would never dare enter before my King."

"You went over ten years in your life before knowing I was a king."

"You did not wear a crown in my house." Tirnion said.

"Your mother has never been a fan of crowns and had rigged your home to tip it off my head whenever I entered. It was easier to leave it behind."

"Do you know why I'm being called here?" Tirnion asked, turning serious.

"They are judging one of the troops." Thranduil said.

Tirnion could not hide his anger, "They should not have a right do such a thing…"

"Which is why I requested your presence." Thranduil said.

"Send the captain to defend the warrior when the king cannot." Tirnion said.

"One way of putting down a rebellion is to force the blame of an unpopular decision on the shoulders of a captain. Of course, one way to assure the troops stay loyal to their captain is to make him a defender even in the place of their king." Thranduil studied the door, pressing a hand to the figure of his father, "there are grumblings of rebellion going through my less loyal councilors and citizens. I cannot do a mass purge of the council when the darkness is so close and others need our aid. I need to know that despite what happens, my troops will be loyal to their captain…"

"And that the captain remains loyal to the king."

"Or Berenon; or Legolas if that happens, Valar help us. He'll lead a group to Smaug if only to renew their friendship."

"Thranduil, you could have simply asked me to speak out for Lothon before he was brought here for trial."

"Less people have a chance of knowing this way. Lothon does not deserve the exile some of those councilors are planning to send him on. He was attacked by a human while trying to save the lives of innocents. He was within his own rights to take that human's life. I would not have done anything different." Thranduil said.

"Nor would I." Tirnion agreed.

Thranduil nodded and took a deep breath. He pushed his shoulders back and held his head high, taking on the stance of the Woodland King. A small push of the hand and the doors to the chamber opened, flooding the stone hall with light.

Tirnion followed Thranduil into the room and took his place beside the crown prince, Berenon. He nodded at Lothon, giving him a look of reassurance. Tirnion's eyes then rested on the assembly of his mother, sisters, and brother-in-law. Claurion was the only other warrior in the room besides Lothon, Tirnion, and the royal family.

The voice of the council, an elder elf from the First Age, called attention to the crowd.

"The warrior Lothon stands accused of having the blood of man on his hand. Who here stands in his defense."

Rising without hesitation, Tirnion stood tall and proud, and spoke in a clear and calm voice, "Tirnion, captain of the troops and seneschal of Mirkwood stands in his defense."

* * *

Erestor surveyed the disorderly piles of paperwork that now covered Glorfindel's desk. The poor elf looked exhausted and disheveled, more so than he had last week when he had been pulled to the ground by Elladan and Morwen. 

Erestor studied his friend's office with disbelief, "You went years without your second and now that he is finally gone you are going to pieces?"

"I could still send him work or even divvy it out amongst his staff, but apparently his staff decided to go galloping off to Mirkwood with him." Glorfindel grumbled.

"Are you that harsh a taskmaster?" Erestor asked.

Glorfindel scoffed, "_You_ of all people in this realm are asking _me_ that question?"

Erestor nodded, "I will give you that point."

"Why have you wandered into my office anyway?"

"Gilraen is currently huddled in mine trying to hide from her son's next excruciatingly detailed account of his time in the woods."

"It is good to know the boy enjoyed his time in the woods," Glorfindel muttered as he bent to answer another inquiry for aid from some group of Dunedain, "he will need to become accustomed to living outside under the stars."

"It is the way of the Rangers." Erestor remarked as he rearranged a group of figurines.

Glorfindel let out an irritated sigh and put his paperwork down, "Erestor, how many times must I tell you, despite what the historical accounts state the way the figurines are placed is the genuine seating arrangement of Gondolin."

Erestor gave Glorfindel a half-hearted glare, "And how many times must I tell you, your beliefs in the matter may very well be clouded by memory or habit. I am certain all dinners with Turgon were not served in a formal function."

"If that is what you wish to believe." Glorfindel muttered, knowing full well Turgon did stand on ceremony and often encouraged to comfort the elves who had braved such horrors to come and settle in Gondolin. It was almost tempting to say fate was against them from the beginning.

"You know, I do wonder," Erestor said as he sat down across from Glorfindel, "how our positions became reversed. You are now behind the desk being the diligent worker while I am doing my best to annoy you and distract you from your work."

"I never try to annoy you."

"Oh, no, that comes naturally." Erestor said.

"The love of brotherhood I feel from you warms my soul like no other."

"Best not tell Faeleth about that, she gets quite territorial."

Glorfindel laughed, "Oh yes, I do remember that time she threw a knife at that she-elf who was trying to molest you….who was that?"

Erestor sniffed, "She was merely trying to embrace me." Erestor pressed a hand to his forehead, "And the she-elf was Manadhien."

Glorfindel let out a sharp breath, "I thought it was agreed not to speak of her again."

Erestor merely shrugged, "You asked. Simply replying, 'My cousin.' would not have been proper." His eyes met Glorfindel, "We will have to speak of her again one day. Morwen is bound to ask."

"She has gone many years without asking." Glorfindel said.

"It is not healthy to suppress such a…" Erestor started.

Glorfindel interrupted him, "While I agree one's history is not so easily ignored, I must also see this from Morwen's perspective. She does not know Manadhien. She does not wish to know her. She may never want to know her. Or Arphenon. Or Miluion. For Morwen some things are better left unknown." Glorfindel looked down at his desk and whispered, "She has all she needs here."

Erestor nodded, "For now," he agreed. "But what will you do, Glorfindel, when Morwen does begin to delve into her past and yours as well. Soon the young ones will realize the brink they currently stand on is one we met an Age ago and they will turn to us. What will you tell her then?"

"The truth." Glorfindel answered, looking up to meet Erestor's eyes.

Their gazes locked in a tense battle for a moment before Erestor gave his nod of approval.

The Chief Councilor laughed as rolls of parchment fell off Glorfindel's desk and began a desperate escape toward the door.

"Glorfindel, you must appoint a second, if only a temporary one." Erestor said.

Glorfindel sadly nodded, "Yes, I know. I know what must be done, I just despise that I must do it."

"You have picked?" Erestor asked.

Glorfindel smiled, a sick look on his face, "Alas, but I have."

* * *

_**The Misty Mountains, July, TA 2941**_

Mithrandir pressed a hand to the rocks that made up the pass and offered a silent benediction. Further south there was a pass that had been overrun by orcs and the like; that pass was where Elrond's wife had met the beginnings of a cruel fate. They would not go that way, but out of respect to his friend and what he had lost, Mithrandir did feel the need to pay his respects.

He could not deny the underlying unease in his soul. These mountains had been overcome by goblins and other unsavory creatures. It seemed a fool's errand to take the dwarves and the hobbit through the snow and ice passes of dark rock, but there was little choice.

He could only hope they could pass the night in peace.

With one last look to the east, Mithrandir, Gandalf, the Grey Pilgrim, tightened his hold on his staff, feeling the ring of Cirdan dig into his finger, as he pushed forward leading his party onward.

* * *

Thandrog sat timidly in Glorfindel's office, his back stiff against the wooden chair. No overstuffed plush velvet seat would ever dare make its self at home in this office. Thandrog let his eyes travel around the room as Glorfindel continued his unnerving staring attack centered on Thandrog's person. Thandrog's eyes finally found some sense of courage and finally leveled and met with Glorfindel's own. 

In the many years he had spent under Glorfindel's rule (and while Elrond may be the lord of the realm, Glorfindel was the one elf Thandrog would obey without question) and therefore had seen many looks cross his captain's face. There was that look of adoration when Estel had handed Glorfindel his first scraggly drawing of Glorfindel's horse. There were those looks of wry amusement whenever Elladan, Elrohir, or both attempted to verbally dance themselves out of a bad situation. There were also Glorfindel's looks of surprise when Erestor managed to best him at chess and then his subsequent looks of determination as he tried to figure out how. There were, of course, the rare times when his face took on the look of utter contentment when Glorfindel knew everyone he loved was alive, safe, and well. Thandrog was quite well associated with Glorfindel's look of annoyance, a glare really, that Thandrog tended to receive whenever he rated a wounded animal over a whining new recruit, though Thandrog knew those looks were also tainted with respect. Thandrog was also one of the rare few who truly saw the look of Glorfindel when he was completely and truly relaxed, a look that normally only occurred when Morwen was snuggled up to his side and ranting on some Valar forsaken elf or man.

Thandrog could not identify the look that had currently settled on Glorfindel's face. Thandrog could, however, identify what the look was not. The look was not annoyance or contentment, frustration or surprise, amusement and certainly not adoration.

Thandrog tried his best to discourage the tickling that was making itself known in his dry throat. He had no desire to interrupt his captain's silent contemplation with a coughing fit. He was beginning to lose the battle though, with each passing second of Glorfindel's indefinable look.

Glorfindel then let out a sigh of deep resignation and sat back in his chair, looking as if a heavy weight was on his shoulders and he was finally beginning to falter.

"As you know," Glorfindel's grave and musical voice began, "Balanauth has renounced his position and gone off to frolic with a Mirkwood maiden in that spider infested hell."

Thandrog swallowed, "I had heard Balanauth finally proposed to his lover Tollureth and planned to do the formal announcement at the next nighttime feast. I had also heard rumors he decided to join the ranks of Mirkwood knowing they could use his experience far more than we could here. I have not heard much on the spider infestation except that it is rampant."

"Indeed." Glorfindel stated. "The spiders are moving closer to that realm and causing chaos and panic amongst those made of a thinner skin. Honestly, how an elf could have lived in Mirkwood since the shadow and not developed some sense of what was to come, I do not know. Mirkwood, however, is not our current problem."

"It is not?" Thandrog asked, thinking the spiders, the darkness, and the dragon near the Lonely Mountain were quite current problems for all on Arda.

"It is not." Glorfindel said. "Our problem is who will fill the position of my second."

"The twins, obviously." Thandrog said.

"No." Glorfindel said. "They have other responsibilities."

"You could recall Thalion," Thandrog said, "Though his wife may find a way to murder you with a sewing needled."

"Indeed, she would." Glorfindel agreed.

"What of Tirnion? I am certain his second..and his replacement for his second could…"

"Tirnion is bound for some time to Mirkwood and until I can approach him my proposal, I need to have an interim second. An elf who can serve in the position for the next decade or century or however long it will be until I can convince Tirnion his future lies in this realm and not that of his childhood."

Thandrog nodded, "Well, I am certain I can perform some observation for you; see how certain elves interact with their subordinates. Which ones are good leaders, hard workers, dedicated to…..what?" Thandrog asked as he saw Glorfindel's common exasperated look.

"You, Thandrog, you will be my interim second." Glorfindel stated, his tone obvious that such a thing should have been clear.

"Me?" Thandrog asked. "Are you serious? Have you gone mad? Did Morwen drop a book on you? Glorfindel, I am more likely to save a snake than a soldier."

"Good, the serpents need someone to watch over them. Eru knows all other elves run away from them."

"They keep the gardens healthy." Thandrog argued. "Glorfindel, if you are merely toying with me…"

"Thandrog, I have trained you myself. I know well your abilities. Despite your affinity for animals, which has proved more than valuable for us, you are one of the greatest warriors here. You simply refuse to acknowledge such a thing. Or you know it well but do not wish to live up to such a thing and bury it under the masks of the aloof animal lover and the jester."

"You see much." Thandrog said.

"I have seen many elves of great strength and skill attempt to deflect by burying themselves in something so far from the battlefield."

"I do not know if I can…."

"It won't not be a position you will have to hold for the rest of your existence, Thandrog, only for the time being. We do not even have to make a formal announcement. Only a handful of the staff will know, all members of the family will of course know, and your personal staff will be informed."

"My personal staff?"

"Yes, you have your own personal staff to help you handle matters."

"I will have minions?" Thandrog asked. "Why do you not have…"

Glorfindel smiled, "My position is so high ranking that my staff is the same for Erestor. My staff consists of my second, his staff, and their staff, a few junior councilors and one senior councilor and a handful of scribes."

"You have minions in high places." Thandrog said. Dropping his act he added, "I do not have a choice in this, do I?"

"In all honesty, no. If you do not take this now, Erestor and Elrond himself will simply come down upon you arguing with you until you give into their demands if only to escape. And Thandrog, please believe me when I say they can argue for a very long time."

"You will have to deal with more for a good portion of the day."

"I am willing to make the sacrifice. So, are you in?" Glorfindel asked.

Thandrog smiled, "I am."

Glorfindel stood up and held a hand out. Thandrog mimicked his actions and shook the hand.

"Welcome to the word of bureaucracy," Glorfindel said, "the Valar help you."

Thandrog nervously laughed at the wicked gleam in Glorfindel's eyes, "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Not today, I suggest you enjoy this last day of freedom, for tomorrow I will have you going through the many suggestions from the forces." Glorfindel said as he gestured to a table groaning with the mass weight of paper, parchment, vellum, and wax tablets it held.

Thandrog swallowed and for a moment wondered if it was too late to turn back.

One thought passed through his mind as he opened his eyes to see the content look across Glorfindel's face; Thandrog wondered just what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

The only sound in the office was the scratching of quills on parchment and vellum. If one listened carefully, they could hear the impressing of a clay stylus into a wax tablet, as Elrohir watched over Estel's ever increasing knowledge of shorthand, this time in one of the dwarven languages. Gilraen had gladly shoved her still adventure chattering son off on an eager teacher-minded Elrohir and had gone with Rian into the nearest town to hunt for dress fabrics. Morwen suppressed a shuddered as she thought of sewing garments. While well aware it was a needed and handy skill, Morwen would not hesitate to swallow her pride and beg Glorfindel to hire a seamstress if they ever had a home of their own. Morwen was more than humble enough to admit her lack of great skill with a needle and thread. 

"Were dwarves really in Imladris?" Estel asked as he handed his tablet to Elrohir for inspection.

Morwen looked up from her desk, "Indeed, Estel, they were. Quite a few, twelve to be certain."

Estel gave a boyish sigh, "I wish I could have met them. Can you imagine the stories they could tell about all those caves?"

Elrohir put down Estel's tablet, and pointed to the incorrect lines before saying, "I am certain you will meet a few dwarves in due time, though they tend not to be so open in speaking about their homes."

Estel studied the tablet attempting to figure out where he had gone wrong, absently he asked, "Will I meet Mr. Baggins as well?"

Morwen stifled a laugh at the thought of the hobbit, one who had become quite the favorite story subject for Glorfindel. Smiling at Estel and his realization of his writing errors, she said, "Oh, Estel, I do not think we could keep Mr. Baggins out of our home now that he has learned the way and walked the path."

"And the wizard?" Estel asked, his tone both tentative and inquisitive, knowing the wizard was reserved for 'adult talk.'

Elrohir gave Estel a tender smile as he nodded his approval at the corrections and the question, "Do not be so hasty to enter into affairs with wizards, Estel. Only mischief comes from such a thing and I fear your mother believes you to be surrounded by far too much mischief makers in your life as is."

The tranquility of the office was shattered as Erestor and Glorfindel both came bursting in, eyes wide. Both elves used their considerable heights and weights to hold the door closed as Elrond's enraged yells echoed down the corridors of the councilor's offices.

"Did you spill ink on a map?" Elrohir asked.

"It was not us!" Glorfindel protested.

"Your father has been far speaking with Mithrandir." Erestor said.

At the distinct sound of a sharp object embedding in hard wood, Morwen made a note to send for a new letter opener for Elrond.

"I take it the far speaking did not go so…" Morwen stopped as Elrond forced the door open sending both Glorfindel and Erestor flying to the sides.

Estel's mouth was dropped open in awed shocked at the sign of Elrond's strength. Elrohir looked hard pressed not to laugh as he watched his clearly enraged father begin to pace the office. Morwen was tempted to ask why her office had been determined as the spot for Elrond to take out his destructive frustration, wincing as a pile of books went toppling to the floor, and then had to admit that between Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel and herself, her office had the fewest items.

Glorfindel and Erestor, both torn between annoyance and amusement, had just pulled themselves off the ground and were beginning to close the door as it was again thrown open by a contingent containing no less then seven armed elves.

Elladan, sword drawn and leading the pack, exclaimed, "Who's attacking?"

It was quite comical to see the elves Elladan had gathered and all they had armed themselves with. Elladan, of course, had his weapon. Eluialeth had a tome that both Glorfindel and Morwen recognized was heavy enough to break a grown elf's nose. Lindir followed with a harp which, Morwen supposed, could knock a person senseless. The other elves were similarly armed with miscellaneous household objects which could do some harm. Though Morwen was also left to wonder what exactly Crabanon thought a blank canvas could do for protection.

Elrohir caught her eye and mouthed the word "shield."

"No one is attacking, my dear son," Elrond stated as one of Morwen's supposedly dull daggers left out for Glorfindel to sharpen was thrown with expert precision into the practice board at the other end of the office, "the wizard has only managed to lose the hobbit, the ponies, the dwarves and the supplies!"

Lindir and Crabanon exchanged glances, gesturing for all non-family members and councilors to leave the room. Eluialeth quickly dropped her tome, ignoring the whimper of pain as it landed on Elladan's foot and strode over to Estel. She grabbed his tablet and held out a hand, "Come Estel, we will go to the library and I will start your Quenya lessons."

"Excellent idea." Erestor agreed as he shuffled his daughter out of the room.

Elladan hobbled over to the nearest chair, dropping his sword and ripping off his shoe to examine for broken bones.

Elrond stopped his pacing to regard his son, "Elladan, what happened to your foot?"

Elladan gave his father a disbelieving look and took in a deep breath to surely let his father know exactly what he thought, but his twin quickly put a hand over his mouth.

"Accidental book, father." Elrohir said. "I shall just go find some bandages and some numbing ointment."

Elrond absently nodded as he took his son's foot into his hand and began to examine it.

Erestor let out a deep sigh, obviously pleased with Elrond's distraction.

Glorfindel walked over to the practice board and worked the dagger out, studying the blade and then giving his lord an impressed look for having such force to make a dull blade imbed so deeply. As he came over to Morwen's desk she asked, "What happened?"

"We are still not exactly certain." Glorfindel answered. "Luckily it seems we will soon be informed."

Elrohir came back into the room, one of the common healing bundles in his hand. Elrond quickly dug through it and pulled out bandages and numbing ointment.

"Will you tell us why you are in such a state?" Elladan asked his father, wincing as the bones in his foot were examined.

"Mithrandir far spoke with me in a panic. Apparently the ponies, supplies, dwarves, and hobbit disappeared down a hole."

"They did what?" Glorfindel asked.

"Goblins, orcs, the like, carried them through a hole before Mithrandir fully came to his senses." Elrond answered, then apologizing to his son as Elladan protested the harsh movement of his foot.

"I assume Mithrandir attempted to go after them." Erestor said.

"When he was last in contact with me, yes, he said he was going down the hole after them." Elrond muttered.

Glorfindel suddenly snapped to attention, "You said they had the Orcist?" he asked Elrond.

Elrond nodded, "Yes, the Goblin-cleaver, quite an impressive blade."

Glorfindel shook his head, "Then the dwarves and the hobbit will most certainly be killed as elf friends."

"Why?" Elrohir asked, as he tapped his brother's head in a game of annoyance and distraction as Elrond did what he could for the broken bones.

Glorfindel shrugged, adopting a look of nonchalance though his eyes told something different, "The blade of Orcist glows when orcs are around. Rog had fun with that little trick, Duilin bet him a month's worth of recruit training he couldn't do it. Rog did a special little trick to Turgon's blade as well, first as a joke for forcing Rog to reinforce all seven gates of the city in one week. Turgon liked it so much though, he ordered Rog to make the effect permanent. Mithrandir wields that sword, and I am sure he will do so with the purpose intended. Those orcs are in for quite a surprise."

"How does a blade glow like that?" Elladan asked.

"Very brightly." Glorfindel said, smiling at the groans around the room.

"The blade is forged with the essence of whatever enemy it is intended against. At least, that is what the rumors say." Erestor said.

"It was Rog's specialty," Glorfindel said, "and I do believe the knowledge fell with him. Though, I suppose he may have passed it on to one of his apprentices. Even if he did, it would not matter."

"Explain." Elladan said, teeth gritted in pain.

"Most elves do not stand around orc carcasses long enough to collect a heart." Glorfindel said in the same tone he would use to describe an elf's clothing.

"I did not know orcs even had hearts." Elladan muttered.

"Not so surprising coming from you," Morwen said from her desk, "the healer's son who prays he never has to help deliver a babe."

"So says the councilor who runs away from epic poetry."

"Only when it is in Quenya."

"When is it not?" Elrohir asked.

Morwen pretended to clean her nails, "I am not a fan of overly romanticized tales of love and loss, that does not mean anything. I still translate it when it is required."

"Such a romantic." Elrond said with a sly smile, putting down his son's foot. "Not much we can do now, Elladan, except wait. It may take longer than usual with all the bones broken. What did Eluialeth drop on you?"

Elrohir looked over to the spot on the floor where the book still lay, "It appears to be Gil-Galad's collected favorite Quenya poems."

"You see," Morwen said, "epic Quenya poetry is harmful to the well being of an elf."

Elrond was quite thankful for the laughter he felt bubbling out of his soul, taking even greater joy when it overcame the whole room.

* * *

The various members of Elrond's family, both blood and bound, were scattered around the sitting room enjoying a calm night's peace. The day had passed without any further show of Elrond's temper and while the group waited for news on the party, they could not help but enjoy the cool summer's night. Laughter flowed from the balcony where Elladan and Elrohir were telling tales of their adventures to Estel, Gilraen, and Rian. Erestor and Faeleth were engaged in quite the chess battle, Faeleth easily besting her husband's moves and smiling as he grew more and more frustrated. Morwen was writing in the account book for the year, while Glorfindel read over her shoulder and added his own comments. Eluialeth sat next to Morwen using a broken-tipped quill as a cat toy for the small gathering of felines around her feet. 

It was not often they had nights like these, not in these times. With ever increasing frequency the nights were being filled with research and strategy sessions, desperate to guess the actions of the supposed unknown enemy before the enemy made a move.

Elrond watched over them all and cherished this moment. Foresight did not need to inform him that action on a grand scale was about to be undertaken. Elrond knew if Mithrandir did not contact them about the dwarves and hobbit soon, he would be forced to send a search party into the mountains, if only to retrieve the bodies.

Estel's voice called out to Elrond, asking him if life in Lindon had been as full of adventures as the twins were swearing it was. Elrond opened his mouth to answer but stopped as he felt the brush of Mithrandir's unique signature across his mind.

The laughter stopped, the room grew quiet, the others were as frozen in their actions as Elrond.

Elrond opened his eyes to find himself pierced with many an elven and human gaze. Elrond blinked slowly, allowing the mask of the politician to slide over his face .Faeleth recognized the action and quickly stood up to usher Gilraen and Estel out of the room, telling Estel she needed help in selecting the snacks for all gathered. Before Faeleth left she gave Elrond a deep look which clearly stated he had an hour at most to make his concerns known before Gilraen and Estel would return.

As the door closed, Elrond spoke softly, "Mithrandir had located the lost party only to have lost the hobbit and a dwarf."

"How does one lose a hobbit and much less a dwarf?" Elladan asked as he hobbled his way back inside.

"Apparently very easily since Mithrandir has managed to have done that twice in the past day alone." Glorfindel said, unwilling to move from his position behind Morwen.

"To be fair, it has been a night and a day for Mithrandir." Erestor said, turning away from the chess board.

Elrond shook his head in an effort to clear the lingering presence of Mithrandir and said, "They have lost everything not on their person."

"Which is why I have always told you what?" Glorfindel asked the twins.

Everyone in the room, including Eluialeth responded as one, "Never leave anything of great value and most utter import in your packs for you shall never know when a horse will run or a pack will be destroyed."

Glorfindel, in an action he had not performed in many years, rolled his eyes, "Look at the treatment I receive when I was only trying to protect everyone."

"Glorfindel," Elrohir said, "if you had your way we would all be wrapped in velvet and never able to leave the realm." Elrohir smiled to take the sting out of his words, "Yet we adore you still."

Morwen reached up a hand and patted Glorfindel's face, "You see, you have worked your way so deeply into all of us that we cannot banish you and your tendencies to coddle."

"Remind me of that remark the next time you are far too tired to make it to bed on your own." Glorfindel said.

Elrond stood up and began to pace, "We may have to send a party out to meet Mithrandir with supplies or to retrieve what remains of the lost members."

"If we make such a decision it will have to be soon," Erestor said, "the party heading to the Golden Wood is to leave in three days time. That's the latest we can leave without being late for the proceedings."

"I thought the meeting did not start until the end of August?" Elladan asked. "It does not take more than a month to get from here to Grandmother's realm. Going swiftly on horseback it would take barely a week for a party of elves."

"We have prior commitments that have nothing to do with the council." Elrond said

"That's not suspicious at all." Elrohir muttered.

Erestor opened his mouth to respond but was quieted as Lindir came into the room. Lindir was one of the few elves given permission to enter without knocking, but Elrond had given him such permission for fear his door would wear down due to all the times Lindir knocked over something the twins had done. By the time the twins had turned twenty Elrond had decided for the safety of the door and his chief minstrel's hand, knocking was far too formal.

"Sorry to interrupt," the minstrel said, "but Gilraen and Estel have been taken captive by the minstrels and Faeleth suggests everyone moves down there. Something about giving the people faith in the realm."

"She is a wise elf." Elrond said. "It would be good to be spend such a night in song and dance."

"Or hobbling in Elladan's case." Rian said with a smirk.

Elladan adopted a wounded air, "My lady wounds me so; how shall I ever go on?"

Rian pressed a soft kiss to Elladan's forehead, "I am sure you will find a way to overcome the pain."

Morwen had to fight her smile as she spied Eluialeth's clearly disgusted look at seeing Rian and Elladan do their best to seduce each other without being vulgar. She leaned over to her friend as far as she could, considering Glorfindel had her hair held like a leash.

"Eluialeth, be kind to Rian and Elladan, it is good for them to act so."

Eluialeth shook her head, "I feel my intelligence lowering with each moment I watch them interact." She passed a look up to Glorfindel, "At least Glorfindel is partly clever with his flirtations."

"Partly?" Glorfindel asked with a sly smile, "I will have you know, some she elves simply come to me after only receiving a warm smile. That, my dear Eluialeth, takes skill."

Eluialeth raised a dark brow, perfectly matching the look on Morwen's face, "Really, Glorfindel?" Eluialeth asked.

Elrohir cleared his throat, "Glorfindel, for your safety, I would stop speaking now."

"Elrohir I am only teasing, they know…" Glorfindel stopped as he met the dark looks of Eluialeth and Morwen and the clearly threatening looks of all the cats gathered around Eluialeth's side. "Right…" Glorfindel said, letting go of Morwen's hair and moving over to the door. "Lindir, my good elf, they are gathered in the Hall of Fire, correct?"

"Most, yes." Lindir said, mirth in his eyes.

"I think it would be best to leave.."

"Yes, let us go." Elrond said.

Elrohir held out a hand to help his brother up and started to make their way out of the room, Rian watching from behind them. All the years of winning three-legged races helped the twins to adopt a quick pace. Elrond silently admired the way his sons worked together, only to stop as he remembered their favorite way to go down the stairs when they found themselves tied together.

"Do not dare to slide down the banister!" Elrond bellowed after them.

"I fear you are too late," Rian's voice called back into the room, "but nothing else appears to be broken."

"Oh dear," Morwen said as she stood up and hurried out of the room, the cats and Eluialeth following her in a perfect procession.

Glorfindel quickly dodged out of their path, knowing full well if Morwen or Eluialeth did not take some sort of revenge, the cats surely would.

Elrond pressed a palm to his forehead, "Lindir, please attend to my foolish sons, I need to speak with Glorfindel and Erestor for a moment."

Lindir nodded, closing the door to the study.

Elrond regarded his most trusted friends with grave eyes, "I cannot take the chance of leaving Estel and Gilraen here with only the twins to watch over them."

"I will stay." Erestor said.

"Erestor, your daughter…" Glorfindel started.

Erestor shrugged, "The council demands your presence; you are one of the most trusted and well known elves in Arda and your absence would be viewed as an insult. I can always visit Galueth when you return."

"While I do appreciate your offer, Erestor," Elrond said, "And will take advantage of it, I cannot wish but to send them to Cirdan."

"He will not be in attendance at the council?" Erestor asked.

Elrond smiled, "He will just have returned from a journey to the West and will be too weary to make the long journey to the Golden Wood. He is sending Galdor in his stead."

"The Dunedain are heading this way," Glorfindel said, "and would be more than happy to guard Gilraen and Estel on their journey. We will have to send Elrohir with them."

"I believe the Dunedain also requested the aid of one of our warriors?" Elrond asked. "Would you not send Elrohir to them?"

"I trust Elrohir more with the care of Gilraen and Estel than any other. Thandrog has had some dealings with the Dunedain and I felt he was best for the task."

"Oh, dear, Thandrog's first duty as a second." Erestor murmured with an evil look.

"The twins will not like this," Elrond said, "but there is little we can do. I need Erestor here to help watch over the realm and Elladan…"

"Marvelous time to break most of the bones in his feet." Glorfindel said. "We really must commend Eluialeth's timing."

Faeleth then came into the room, "Stop your discussing and stop your politics and come join the song and the dance." She began to forcibly pull her husband out of the room, "We do not have many nights such as this anymore and I refuse to waste it on worries and work."

Elrond watched them go, smiling at the only person brave enough to risk Erestor's wrath.

"You heard the lady." Glorfindel said, pushing Elrond toward the doorway. "It is time to sing and dance."

* * *

Glorfindel laid across Morwen's bed, his eyes straying to study the various shelves and dressers of the room. Everything in Morwen's room took on a haunting image as the night came, bathing the room in darkness, with little moon or starlight from the one window. The candlelight only served to make the room at once both soothing and sinister, giving a beacon of warmth while its light cast twisted shadows. Most of her figurines had been moved to her personal office, only the most cherished were proudly displayed next to beloved volumes of works and precious gifts. Studying the figurines of family members and pets long gone, Glorfindel felt his fingers itch for a block of wood and a carving knife. It had been quite some time since he had been on a decent patrol, not trusting others in contact with Elrond to be away from the realm for far too long. 

The night had been lovely and joyous. It was almost like Midsummer but even more relaxed. As Earendil had come into sight, Elrond had sang the tale of his father to Estel, soothing and singing the boy to sleep. Estel was growing, maturing, and changing with each day and yet he was still a young boy.

The years had gone by so fast, taking a young babe who had just lost his father and making him into a future warrior, lore master, or king. Whatever fate that may come for young Estel, he had already begun the path.

It was amazing how quickly the young ones grew, such as the she elf before him now. There was still a touch of the young child in Morwen, the unraveling braids the twins of those from when she was a child. There was still something wild and free in her eyes, still a mischievousness that came out and yet she was more refined. She did not so often pick up the daggers now, she no longer danced in the rain and puddles with the twins, she was even less likely these days to come to his office and press her hands to the craved patterns of his desk to receive some sort of tangible comfort. With the years Morwen had become more complicated, had learned to bury things under the mask of the councilor and that of the grown she-elf in a high position.

Their relationship had changed with the times. While some may think they were closer than ever, there were still things they did not share. More than once Glorfindel had been awoken by the motions of Morwen's silent sobs and her nightmares and yet she never told him of what she dreamt. Of course, Glorfindel kept more than his handful of fears and nightmares hidden from her.

He had learned to give her more freedom in her travels, had slowly let the chain of his protectiveness slacken to let her breathe; with each loosened link Glorfindel was finding it more and more difficult to take a breath.

Morwen sat down beside him, running a callus worn finger down the bridge of his nose.

Glorfindel smiled at the tickling sensation, "Yes?"

"You are not thinking of pleasant things." Morwen said, pressing a kiss to his brow, "I do not like to see creases in your forehead."

"Does that mean you will not love me when I grow as old and worn as Cirdan?" Glorfindel asked.

Morwen laughed, "Glorfindel, how you have not become as old and white and bearded as Cirdan with all your years and all your worries, I do not know."

Glorfindel trailed a hand through her hair, "Oh, I have my ways for staying young."

Morwen silently laughed before lying down beside him, "Have you read my notes?" she asked.

"As wrinkled as they were, yes, I did manage to read them." Glorfindel murmured into her hair.

"I will have you know, I had to risk my good virtue for those notes." Morwen said.

"I do remember being toppled to the ground as you threatened Elladan with castration for daring to sully your reputation in front of others." Glorfindel said, willing himself not to laugh.

"Oh just laugh before you break a rib." Morwen muttered.

"I still love you even if you do have skills to rival that of a bar maiden." Glorfindel said through his tears of laughter.

Morwen gave a disgusted sigh, "And I still love you even if you find great joy in my annoyance."

Glorfindel pressed an apologetic kiss to Morwen's lips. "If it was anyone else," he said, "you would be full of laughter."

"Perhaps." Morwen said.

"Thank you for your notes, I know they took you a long time to compile."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No, not particularly. I do know however, certain wizards have no need to send their own forces so far into the East."

"Will you bring your suspicions up at the council?" Morwen asked.

Glorfindel let his breath out slowly, "I am not certain. I will speak with Celeborn and the representative of Mirkwood and after that…I will simply wait to see what Curunir does."

"This is a dangerous game you are playing, Glorfindel." Morwen said.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and nodded, "But 'tis better to play this game than to sit back and do nothing."

* * *

**_Imladris, TA 2941, late July_**

Glorfindel placed a hand over his eyes in an attempt to avoid the glares directed his way by Elladan and Elrohir. A deathly silence had overtaken the office since Glorfindel had announced the new plans of travel.

"I am afraid that it will not be possible for either one of you to go to the Dunedain, as I need one of you to guide and guard Gilraen and Estel to the Havens, as per your father's request." Glorfindel stated for what felt like the hundredth time.

"What about one of us having to stay here in order to.." Elrohir started.

"Erestor is staying behind to watch over the realm. He has done so on his own in the past, I assure you he can still do it now. Furthermore, Elladan can obviously not ride a horse nor fight in his current condition." Glorfindel said.

Elladan had to concede the point to Glorfindel but asked, "Who is going to run the guard while you are gone then?"

"Baineth." Glorfindel answered.

Both twins nodded, knowing the warrior would perform her job well.

"And who will you send to the Dunedain?" Elrohir asked.

"Thandrog." Glorfindel said and waited for the outburst.

"THANDROG?" both twins yelled in inquiry.

"Until I have secured a second, Thandrog is serving in the interim. Out of all the elves we have ever sent to the Dunedain, he gets along best with them and the people know him. He is a good warrior and more experienced than the both of you, do not let his jester smile and love for animals cloud your judgment."

"I do not like this." Elrohir said.

"It does not matter whether or not you like it," Glorfindel said, "this is how it must be."

Glorfindel waited for the twins to say anything else but both sat in silent, but angered, resignation.

"You are dismissed." Glorfindel said.

Elladan rose with the aid of Elrohir as they both silently left the room.

Glorfindel knew it would take a few days for their anger to wear down, but soon the twins' good humor and sense would come out. Better to have the twins angered with him than their father. Elrond would not travel well through the mountains if he thought the twins were angered with him.

The hobbit and the dwarf had been located, though the ponies and supplies forever lost and Mithrandir had cautioned Elrond to travel quickly and cautiously through the mountains.

Glorfindel only prayed the dwarves and hobbit would go through Mirkwood without any further incident.

Sighing, he dashed off a quick letter to Tirnion, informing him of the state the party would be in once they reached Mirkwood's borders and asking Tirnion to please show their guests kindness and courtesy.

* * *

Morwen threw a pack at a clearly pouting Elladan. She laughed softly at the indignant squawk that came out of her friend's mouth. 

"Why would you do such a thing?" Elladan demanded.

"You are being far too petulant and I prefer an indignant Elladan to an irritable Elladan."

"Oh, just lovely, I will soon be abandoned by all I know and you are making jokes."

"You are being handed the veritable keys to the kingdom and you are being a stubborn brat."

Elladan sat back with his arms crossed over his stomach, "Erestor is being handed the keys, I am being handing a cushion to sit on the throne."

"And what a lovely throne it will be, with your lady Rian by your side and no distractions to bother you." Morwen said.

"I have a realm to rule."

"You have Erestor to help you rule said realm; even your father does not rule his realm alone."

"Father does rule it without a broken foot though." Elladan stated, giving his foot a glare.

"It was you fault breaking most of those bones again in an attempt to ride before you were ready. Your father is a healer, Elladan, listen to him." Morwen said.

"It is a cruel punishment, keeping me inside all this time."

"Elves are supposed to have patience."

"Good thing I am half elf then." Elladan countered.

"Speaking of," Morwen ran a finger over the light stubble on Elladan's face, "have you broken your wrist as well?"

Elladan shrugged, "I am not on patrol and have little to do so I thought I would let myself go for a few days and see how much can grow in a fortnight."

"What has your father said?"

Elladan looked up through his unbound hair, "That I remind him of a young Elros. He did not seem sad though, that is good, yes?"

Morwen nodded, "Yes, if your father can view those memories with a smile it is very good." Morwen sat down beside Elladan and pushed a finger into his side, "And Rian?"

Elladan retaliated, laughing as Morwen squirmed away, "Rian says she is getting used to it but is very glad that it is not permanent."

"Good to know someone around here will be able to teach Estel to shave. I fear it is such second nature to your father he would not be able to explain it."

"Oh, Eru, he confused me." Elladan said.

Morwen smiled, "You did have some marvelous cuts on your face."

"Lucky I did not scar my beautiful face." Elladan said.

"What would the ladies of the court have done to themselves?" Morwen asked.

"Thrown themselves off the cliffs in grief, I suspect." Elladan pressed a kiss to Morwen's forehead, "Be safe. I do not want that pass taking another from me."

Morwen embraced Elladan, "I will do my best, though do you honestly believe any orc would be stupid enough to take on Glorfindel and your father?"

"Still," Elladan said, "be alert."

"Yes, Glorfindel." Morwen muttered. "Is there anything you wish for me to bring your sister?"

Elladan's eyes lit up, "Oh yes, come with me to get it. And do not let any other see it, it is a surprise. She wrote to me and asked for this knowing that I, unlike that brother of mine, can keep my mouth shut."

Morwen laughed as Elladan, hobbling foot and all, dragged her out of the room and down the hall.

* * *

**_The Havens, TA 2941, August_**

Elrohir quietly grumbled to himself as he began to unload Gilraen's bags from the cart. "She's a daughter of the Dunedain and yet does not know the meaning of the phrase 'pack lightly.' What if we were attacked, what if we had to run away quickly. Oh no, it will all be fine as long as Gilraen has her trunk full of sewing materials."

"Elrohir, whining is not becoming on a future elven lord." Galdor said as he helped to unload some of the bags. "How long will you be staying?"

"Less than a half-year." Elrohir answered.

Galdor surveyed the amount of luggage, "Then why is it you appear set to move into one of our rooms?"

"I have just learned in these past few weeks that an elf's definition of a half-year stay and a mortal female's are very different."

"Where is your brother?"

"Set to looking over Imladris with Erestor. My father wished to leave early. Speaking of which," Elrohir said as he picked up the last of the bags, "should you not be on your way to the Golden Wood?"

"I will set out in the morning. Cirdan and Cyllon have to return from one of their trips to the…" Galdor hesitated to finish his statement.

"Blessed Realm, you may say it Galdor. I am well aware my mother is a simple sea journey away and yet so much farther."

"You have come to peace with it?"

"No where's near. But I cannot spend the rest of my time worrying about her. She is alive and well, that is all that matters."

"At least that is what you want to believe."

Elrohir smirked, "I do try."

"Thalion will be happy to see you again; he is eager to see the progress of Estel's studies."

"I am sure he will be satisfied by what Estel has learned since his last stay with us."

"Melui has already arranged for you to eat with her and husband tonight." Galdor said, noting the irritated set of Elrohir's shoulders.

"That elf is a goddess of mercy."

"I believe Morwen may have sent her a warning."

"Bless them both." Elrohir muttered. "I adore Gilraen and Estel but I can only take so much."

"Well then, Master Elrohir, welcome to the Havens," Galdor dutifully said, "and may you find comfort and rest by the our shores."

"One can only hope." Elrohir said as the began they climb into the main building of Cirdan's home.

* * *

_**Mirkwood, TA 2941, August**_

Berenon smirked at the decidedly evil look on his father's face.

"Tirnion, was the message from your Imladrian friends clear?" Thranduil asked.

Tirnion nodded, "Yes, quite. Twelve dwarves and a hobbit. The wizard…."

"Will surely have to soon head down to visit our neighbors, which is where Berenon shall be." Thranduil said.

Berenon looked up startled; there had been a debate on who would be sent, though Berenon had hoped it would be him if only to take Rilasseth to the Golden Wood, "Father.."

Thranduil held up a hand, "We cannot insult our dwarven guests by having anyone less than a king to greet them."

Legolas swallowed at the gleam in his father's eyes, "Father, what exactly are you planning…."

"Planning?" Thranduil, his voice smooth, "My dear son, why would you assume I am planning anything?"

"You have that gleam." Legolas said, eyes widening as he realized his thoughts had been spoken out loud.

Golvien leaned over to Galuverior and whispered, "Gleam?" she asked.

"Surely you have noticed," Lothon said, in much better spirits since he was found innocent of all charges, "Thranduil gets this wicked look in his eyes whenever he is planning some sort of mischief."

"I must confess I have never been close enough to notice." Golvien said, her silver hair coming down to cover her face.

Lothon nodded, "It is quite a thing to see, just look closer." He motioned to the King with his head.

Thranduil had his eyes closed for a moment before a truly wicked smile came upon his face.

"I have just been informed a party of dwarves and a smaller creature looking like a human child have passed into the borders of Mirkwood." The King said.

Golvien's eyes widened, "Ah, yes, gleam." She whispered.

Lothon and Galuverior nodded, "Gleam." They said.

* * *

A/N: So, I am assuming the meeting of the Wise was in LothLorein in TA 2941. Is never exactly stated in the major canon works (ok, neither The Hobbit or LotR where the meeting was) but Gandalf says in The Hobbit the dwarves are going much father east than he planned, and once they get to Mirkwood, Gandalf says he has to go south. LothLorien fits that description and there's my justification for it. Also, travel wise, my time for the elves is based off the assumption of how much faster the elves are and how long it took the Fellowship to reach Caras Galadhon. Even with hobbits, humans, battles and wizards falling, it still took less than a month from when the Fellowship left Rivendell (December 25) to reach Caras Galadhon in the Golden Wood (January 17). You can see Appendix B in LotR for more detail. For Galdor coming from the Havens, well, single rider, fast horse, having a later deadline, yeah. 

A/N 2: I am well aware that in "Frost on Glass" Tirnion said he was an infant when his father died. However, I am using, in my mind, the elvish equivalent of the word. Tirnion was old enough to remember his father's death but he was not even close to being a grown elf.

A/N 3: As The Last Temptation of Homer informed me cats were not so cool in the world of Tolkien. This far from surprises me since, you know, most cultures tend to have a stigma against cats. However, this story is an AU and I am going with AU with the rules on the cats (and the owls oddly enough, that did surprise me) since I think everyone needs a little feline companionship in their lives. Unless, of course, you know, if you're allergic.

A/N 4: Yes, there are four author notes, I have a lot to say. The additional one-shot series in this arc have been added to the sweetdreamssanctuary archive as well as, of course, on my lj and my old website. If you don't like the format of lj, you can read the "Once I Was" "Sleeping with Ghosts" and "Anamnesis" stories at SDS. Since I can't do a link on here the website is at (www (dot) sweetdreamssanctuary (backslash) sanctuary (dot) net )

A/N Thanks:

**Renna**::hugs :: you until there is no air left:: No, no, the series is not going to be abandoned anytime soon. December was just a really, really, really bad month for me. It will still be awhile until I am back to updating every other day, but I am aiming for once a week, every two weeks at the latest. Don't worry about Balanauth, he may be going to Mirkwood, but he won't be gone or forgotten. I had fun with Morwen and Glorfindel last chapter, that ended up having more scenes together than I planned, but they do tend to take over.


	8. When Crossing A Bridge

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien and company; no profit is made from this work of fan fiction.**

**A Journey Begins….**

_**Chapter Eight: When Crossing a Bridge**_

_And in the sweetness of friendship let _

_there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures._

_For in the dew of little things the heart_

_finds its morning and is refreshed._

-Kahlil Gibran, _The Prophet_, "On Friendship"

_**On the Road to Lothlorien, TA 2941**_

Morwen often prided herself on the ability to easily adjust to any situation in which she was placed; it was a quality that, she personally felt, made her a good councilor. It was not often Morwen found herself in situations which made her so uncomfortable she was on edge; even her time in Gondor had not made her nerves feel so (wracked).

Morwen had discovered the only situation she knew of which could leave her feeling more exposed than if her body and mind were laid bare for all to see.

She had never been on a journey with such a large escort and she knew she never desired to travel in it again.

"Glorfindel." Morwen whispered, mindful of all the eyes and ears observing them.

"Yes?" Glorfindel asked, his fingers and knife moving quickly over a block of wood.

"Is it not slightly dangerous to have such a large party?"

Glorfindel looked up with an amused look, "How do you think the Wandering Company manages?"

"Right, but…." Morwen glanced around, "is this not the least bit.."

"It is quite common and they all know how to defend themselves. This journey has been undertaken many times and will be again over and over in the future."

"You seem oddly nonchalant about this." Morwen muttered as she tried to hold her hair back in the face of the wind.

Glorfindel placed down his figure and said, "Would you rather I again order you to be silent?"

Morwen quickly shook her head, "No, that was not a good trip."

"Certainly not for either one of us." Glorfindel sated.

"Poor….what was that elf's name Elladan tortured?" Morwen asked.

"Sigilion." Glorfindel answered with an immediate response as he picked up his knife and wooden figure again.

"Sigilion…are you sure?" Morwen asked.

"Quite." Glorfindel nearly spat making Morwen jump silently at the venom in his tone.

Morwen cleared her throat and asked, "Who are you making?"

Glorfindel held out the small wooden figure as he pulled a lock of Morwen's hair to drape over its head.

"Ah," Morwen said, "Estel."

"It is time you had one of him." Glorfindel said, holding on to Morwen's hair/

"Yes; he is lacking." Morwen said as she was held in place. "Is Gilraen next?"

"It would be the more logical step," Glorfindel said, "if I had not already finished her figurine."

"I do not know how you can find the time to work on such things as we travel."

"I do not often sleep when we are in between realms; too many centuries on patrol for me to ever find myself in a deep rest. The whittling relaxes me it lets me focus on the simple so as not to dwell on that which I cannot control."

Morwen smiled, "That is certainly one way to describe a hobby."

Glorfindel tapped her nose, "Ah, but it is not a hobby. I only do this when I am on patrol."

"So, then, 'on patrol' has been defined in the past as baby sitting your lord's sickly sons."

"Honestly, what else was I to do?" Glorfindel asked as he remembered the twins' thankfully rare and brief lapse into illness as elflings, "Whenever I tried to read one or the other would start coughing so harshly not only was my concentration ruined but I feared they would break a rib."

Morwen's lips curled up in a smile, though she would not let it fully appear, "Of course, you could not have done anything else in your situation."

"No." Glorfindel whispered as he went back to his work.

The sounds of the camp settling for the night took over, tents going up, fires being started. Morwen laughed as a large group of guards were being called to help the various scribes and councilors scattered about as the became increasingly frustrated with the ropes and the fabrics.

"One good thing about being so close to the captain," Morwen said, "is that you never have to worry about setting up your own tent."

Glorfindel laughed heartily at her words, "Indeed, yours was the third to go up after Elrond's and my own. I am sure your tent mate is ever more pleased."

"Yes, Noriel, one of the scribes Eluialeth has helped train."

"Little Eluialeth training scribes; if Tirnion could see his little poppet."

"It has not been so long since he has seen her."

"Yes, but this if the first time one her trainees is being sent out on a very important task."

"She should be here serving at this councilor as I once did."

"She is Erestor's daughter; Curunir would never let such a person be present. He has never been comfortable with the connection that exists between Elrond and Galadriel, or between myself and Laeriel to Thranduil. We are lucky Mithrandir and Radagast are much more willing to work with us."

Morwen opened her mouth to respond when she noticed a she-elf approached them.

"Captain, Councilor," she said, "I am sorry to interrupt but Lord Elrond has requested Captain Glorfindel's presence for dinner."

"Duty never ends." Glorfindel muttered placing both his knife and the wooden figure in Morwen's hands. "Thank you, Gelleth," he said addressing the she-elf. To Morwen he said, "We will continue our talk later on."

Morwen nodded as Glorfindel walked off.

"May I ask what your are holding?" Gelleth asked.

Morwen studied the figure in her hand, a nearly completed miniature of Estel, "Just a figure, nothing else." Morwen said as she stood. "Good night, Gelleth."

"Good night, Councilor." Gelleth answered, curiosity in her voice as she watched Morwen walk away.

Morwen turned her head back once laughing softly as Glorfindel turned his own, their eyes meeting. Glorfindel also shared in her laughter, shaking his head before preceding into Elrond's tent.

* * *

Glorfindel walked into Elrond's tent only slightly curious as to what the elf lord wanted. Elrond had been quiet for much of the journey and Glorfindel doubted many of his thoughts were concerned with the upcoming council. 

"I have not passes this way in many years." Elrond said before Glorfindel could call out a greeting.

"It has been sometime since we have gone this way." Glorfindel agreed.

"Each time we ride by that spot where she was found…." Elrond's words trailed off.

"The living cannot haunt a place, Elrond."

"I speak not of apparitions but of memories."

"The memory was not yours, Elrond, it is only your imagination."

"The memory _was_ mine, Glorfindel."

"You looked into Celebrian's mind?" Glorfindel asked. "You never said…"

"I was willing to do anything to heal her, Glorfindel. Including that." Elrond stated.

"Elrond, you could have…"

"I felt the risk was worth it."

"The risk of breaking her mind?"

"It was already broken, Glorfindel. I repaired what I could and that is why she had not completely faded before she sailed."

Glorfindel sat down and let out a heavy sigh. "Well, I suppose it is your memory then."

"No need to be facetious."

"I am being serious." Glorfindel studied Elrond, "What I am about to say I mean with no offensive but, Elrond for a halfelven to have performed and somewhat succeeded in such a task is unheard of."

"I believe, my friend, if you look back on elven history, it is often the halfelven, or the human married to the elf, who perform the always unheard of tasks."

"Such as a mortal man living in Aman?"

"Or a halfelven becoming a star."

"Your father always was the center of attention."

"My line likes to be heard."

"I can personally attest to the validity of that statement."

"As if you are not known for being long-winded."

"Never claimed I was concise."

"I fear what could happen if this council does not go well."

"It will go as it is meant to go."

"I…"

"Trust your sons and Erestor, Faeleth, Lindir the whole lot to rule your realm well. Do you honestly believe Erestor will let anything dare go wrong under his watch."

"Of course not; Cirdan…."

"Only fools dare anger a shipwright who is close to Osse."

"I worry about it all; if Curunir refuses the move to bring down Dol Guldur I do not know how long it will be into the darkness comes to the valley."

"If I know the Mirkwood elves well, they will not let such an injustice happen again. They have paid the price farm more dearly than the others." Glorfindel clasped his shoulder, "Come outside, Elrond. You should not greet your daughter with such worry on your brow."

"I do not know if I am in the mood to listen to songs."

Glorfindel smiled, "You have a choice?"

Elrond stood up running hands through his unbound hair looking more like a regular elf than an elf lord.

"You will send in Morwen if I do not appear?"

"I will, and she is feeling most uncomfortable at the moment so I fear she will debate with you until the night is long over."

Elrond looked through the opening in the tent flap, "Will I be able to convince you to tell us all a tale?"

Glorfindel stood up and walked over to Elrond, slinging an arm around his shoulder, "I will even tell the story of the first time Tuor was initiated into the guard of Gondolin."

Elrond's hand was not quick enough to hide his smile. "You have not told that tale since the Second Age." Elrond said.

"I promised him I would only tell it once an age; it appears to be that time again." Glorfindel said as he moved both of their bodies out into the night.

* * *

"The Nimrodel." Noriel whispered beside Morwen. 

"Have you never been to Lothlorien?" Glorfindel asked the she-elf, though his eyes continued their constant movement over the horizon. The night had been peaceful, Elrond had become more calm as they drew closer to Lothlorien and they had not yet been any incident but Glorfindel was not one to let his guard down doing to a warm sun and a lazy breeze. When things grew as quiet and calm as this was when Glorfindel became truly nervous.

"I fear I have only read of the realm in reports and lore." Noriel said, her voice brining Glorfindel back to the present though h could still smell those flower wreaths of old.

Glorfindel gifted the young scribe with a smile, "Eluialeth chose well," he said, "Curunir will not be able to protest to a scribe who has never been to Lady Galadriel's woods."

"Did you go to the Havens for your first outer-realm stay?" Morwen asked.

"Oh no, my brother joined the Wandering Company and I traveled with them." Noriel said.

"They did not come this way?" Morwen asked.

"Lord Gildor claimed one of his elves was quite upset with one of the guardians of the woods, a brother of a march warden, and Lord Gildor believed it would not be best to tempt either's wrath." Noriel explained.

"Rumil." Morwen muttered.

Noriel nodded, "I do believe that was the name."

Morwen scoffed as Glorfindel found himself trying not to laugh, knowing such a sound would reach the keen ears of Lothlorien's guards.

"Have you been to Lothlorien before Morwen?" Noriel asked.

"Sadly, yes." Morwen stated.

Glorfindel gave her a warning glare before Morwen turned to Noriel with a false smile, "Noriel, I have indeed had the pleasure to dwell under the golden leaves of the mallorn trees on quite a few occasions. The Lady Arwen will sometimes request I visit her when her brothers are not able to travel this far east. I am certain your time here will be memorable."

"Very good." Glorfindel stated.

"Very good that your councilor is feeding what she feels are such blatant lies to her subordinate?" A familiar voice sneered, "Why, Glorfindel, I did not know Imladris had resorted to such tactics."

"Haldir, why are you traveling behind us?" Glorfindel asked before Morwen could return Haldir's insult.

"I was sent off to deliver a message to the Wandering Company." Haldir stood behind Morwen, "And here you are Morwen, the only time you will ever stand above me."

"Haldir, what a lack of pleasure it is to see you again." Morwen stated, the false smile still on her face though Glorfindel detected a slight sparkle in her eye.

Haldir began to make his reply when Glorfindel interrupted him, "Haldir, would it not be proper for you to greet our Lord?"

Haldir's eyes widened, if only for a second, before her ran to the head of the procession calling greetings to Elrond and apologizing for his lack of propriety.

Morwen was very hard pressed not to laugh; her eyes showed her gratitude to Glorfindel. The captain gave a slight nod of his head before riding up to stay beside Elrond, sending the guard stationed there to rear.

"Are all the elves here like that?" Noriel asked.

Morwen ducked her head in embarrassment, "No, no, Noriel, to be honest they are not. They are secretive people but they recognize their own kin and any friends of Lord Elrond. That is simply….." Morwen searched for the correct words, "….Haldir."

Noriel's eyes watched Haldir's interactions with Lord Elrond. "He appears very respectful and humble."

Morwen, after finishing a brief coughing fit, said, "Ah, he is respectful to many. Haldir and I simply have an odd history."

"Former lovers?" Noriel asked.

Morwen began to choke as she rapidly shook her head in the negative. "Never." She rasped out. "Ever, ever, never. Not even if he was the last male of any kind, including the hobbits and dwarves, on Arda. Never." Morwen shuddered. "Oh, Eru, I feel sick."

Morwen regained her composure and motioned for Noriel to dismount, "The horses must be kept in a stable not far from here." She explained still fighting down a cough, "The way to Caras Galadhon is not easy for horses to travel. These elves are more used to travel on foot and by water."

Noriel glanced around, her eyes wide in wonderment as they walked deeper into the woods.

"Remember this sight, Noriel, for it is becoming more and more rare in these days for elves of the western realms to see the glory of the Golden Wood."

They proceeded forward for a ways until they met the few elves who served as stable hands. Those who wished to rest were shown to a few unoccupied talans. The rest, a party which included Lord Elrond himself, made their way to the Caras Galadhon as night fell, eager to be within the city walls.

* * *

Glorfindel could not remember the last time he saw his lord so relaxed. The mere knowledge that his daughter was in the same realm where he now stood seemed to lessen the lines in Elrond's face and the worry in his eyes. Elrond was eagerly discussing some matter with Galadriel and Celeborn, the light in his expression similar to that of days long past; the brief years when peace had been on Arda. 

Glorfindel was pulled from his thoughts at the soft touch of a hand on his arm.

"Yes?" he asked as he turned.

Morwen smiled at him, "Go join the Wise in their debates."

"You could join us." Glorfindel offered, not so eager to be separated.

"Oh, no, please. I am going to see Galueth. Arwen is waiting for me in the hall.." Morwen paused, "branch…" she tried again, "…outside."

Glorfindel laughed, "Lucky for both of us I am not a wood elf and we do not live in trees."

"If Eru meant for us to live in trees.." Morwen began.

"…he would have given us wings." Glorfindel finished Morwen's oft repeated statement. "That does not take into account Eluialeth's and Tirnion's squirrel friends."

"I suppose I should say wings and, in the absence of wings claws and a tail of some kind." Morwen amended her statement.

Glorfindel clasped her hand for a moment, "Be safe." He whispered.

"Do not annoy Celeborn." Morwen answered before pulling away.

Glorfindel followed her movements until she left the hall, watching as Arwen grabbed her arm and began to pull her through the branches. Glorfindel walked over to the talking elven lords and lady, listening to the topic which had cause such a lively debate.

"I am merely suggesting a change in design." Celeborn's deep voice carried over to Glorfindel's ears

"Celeborn," Elrond said, "with all due respect, I believe Cirdan knows well how to build ships."

"They are sturdy, I agree." Galadriel said. "However, they are not pleasing to the eye."

"As long as the ship does not sink, I must confess I could care little if it pleases the eye or not." Elrond said.

"If your father could hear you." Celeborn exclaimed.

"I am certain he would understand." Elrond said.

Galadriel smiled, "Though it is an interesting subject, the form and functionality versus the aesthetics of…"

Glorfindel glanced to the doorway saw a clear and easy path to the exit. It had been many years since he had seen Galueth and Erestor would desire an opinion of how well Orophin was performing as a husband. Turning on a silent foot he quickly followed in the footsteps of Arwen and Morwen. While Glorfindel as many things, and was counted among the Wise, he had never been an eager participant in the discussion on building ships or whether something should resemble a swan or a real boat. Like any good warrior, Glorfindel knew his weaknesses and his also knew when to retreat.

* * *

Morwen embraced Galueth, glad to see her friend after so many years; more happy to greet her than wonder over the slight scrapes on her hands from the tree climbing. 

"Your father desired to travel but was needed at home; he will do his best to travel soon." Morwen said.

Galueth hugged her tightly, "I am only too glad to see so many from home. Arwen is more an elf of the wood than the valley these days."

"I love the valley as much as I love the woods," Arwen said, "I am merely more inclined to the wood these days."

"Inclined she says, avoidance I say." Morwen muttered.

"More like infatuation." Galueth said with a knowing look as she stood up. "I will get us all something to drink and find a wet cloth for your hands, Morwen."

Morwen gave Galueth a thankful smile before turning to Arwen and asking, "Who is he?"

"What?" Arwen asked with wide-eyed innocence.

"The elf you had Elladan order a specialty quiver for; the quiver I was forced to smuggle into this land, hidden away from the watchful eyes of your father and Glorfindel."

"He is no one." Arwen stated.

"He is clearly an archer and a hopefully skilled one at that."

"He is just a dear friend." Arwen said.

If Arwen truly thought she could defeat Morwen with such a blatant lie, she was clearly mistaken. Morwen gazed at Arwen with a skeptical look, "Dear friend as Elladan is a dear friend of mine or dear friend as in Glorfindel and I are good friends?"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds you will tell Glorfindel." Arwen said.

"I will not." Morwen protested.

"You will; what don't you tell him?" Arwen asked in her best attempt to turn the subject on to Morwen; the lady had learned more than her fair share in regards to politics.

"Things he does not need to know." Morwen answered simply.

"You will tell Tirnion." Arwen said.

"Elladan will eventually tell me, so you may as well tell me now." Morwen stated.

Arwen, recognizing defeat, leaned over and whispered the name into Morwen's ear.

Morwen's jaw fell in shock, "How could you…"

Arwen pressed a hand over Morwen's mouth, "No, not a word. I know who his brother is, I know who he is, but Morwen he is quite a lovely elf."

"Who is quite a lovely elf?" Glorfindel asked from the doorway.

"Glorfindel, welcome yourself in to my home." Galueth called from the other room.

Morwen was far too amused to continue on with her questioning of Arwen, but her look let Elrond's daughter know she would not escape a long lecture.

"Who is quite a lovely elf?" Glorfindel asked again.

Arwen started laughing and was quickly joined by Morwen.

Glorfindel tugged on two different dark heads, "Who?" he asked again.

"No one of importance." Morwen answered. "And that is all we are telling you."

Glorfindel shook his head and adopted an air of sadness, "And after I shared with you the tale of Tuor and the guard initiation."

Arwen reached up and hugged her former care taker, "Oh, Glorfindel, we still adore you."

"We just do not trust your temper." Galueth said as she entered with a tray laden with drinks. She passed a small bowl to Morwen with a cloth laid across the top. Glorfindel took up the bowl before Morwen had a chance.

Sighing, Morwen held her hands out and let Glorfindel clean them.

"I feel as if I am seeing a memory come back to life." Arwen said.

"Pardon?" Galueth asked.

Morwen and Glorfindel also appeared confused at Arwen's words.

"It was a few years before my majority." Arwen said.

Morwen and Glorfindel exchanged a confused look, knowing that there had been many events which occurred before Arwen's majority. Galueth, her parents barely married at such a time and Galueth but a hope, looked interested in the story telling of a past she was not present for.

Arwen gestured to Glorfindel, "You had just begun to make the attempt of re-training Morwen in the art of the sword. She had begun to develop calluses and you said Erestor would maim you if Morwen developed any which would render her writing illegible." Arwen laughed, "Morwen was still a scribe at the time."

"You were a scribe?" Galueth asked.

"Yes," Morwen said, "many years ago. I moved up the ranks from page to scribe to assistant to researcher to junior councilor to where I am now."

"I just…you have always been a councilor to me." Galueth said.

"You have never known her as anything different." Arwen answered, "truly I don't remember you ever being a page, Morwen."

"Erestor let her become a scribe much earlier than most elves." Glorfindel said. "He argued that since he had trained her himself…"

"He knew what I was capable of doing." Morwen said. "Though I cannot recall this memory."

Glorfindel studied Arwen, his eyes suddenly wide. "You were hiding from Elladan."

"Yes!" Morwen said. "You had just turned his hair white with the crushed lime Haldir had left when he got his revenge on me. I told you to hide under Glorfindel's desk…"

"Because Elladan would never dare search for me there." Arwen nodded, "It continued to be my favorite hiding spot until I was too big to fit under." Arwen gestured to the bowl in Glorfindel's hands, "You were bathing Morwen's hands in sesame seed oil."

"Arwen," Glorfindel said, "why would you remember that?"

Arwen smile was as sot as her eyes, "Because it was the first time I understood the phrase 'what one does and says is not always what one means.' You said you feared Erestor's wrath but you were more concerned with Morwen's well-being. You looked as if you'd rather bather her hands in kisses than in softening oil."

Galueth smiled, tears glistening in her eyes, "That is a lovely memory, Arwen."

"Indeed, it is." Glorfindel whispered.

Glorfindel rubbed his fingers over Morwen's hands, the scratches cleaned of their dried blood. He pressed a light kiss to each scratch. When he was finished Morwen lifted his hands to her mouth and repeated the gesture. Galueth pretended not to notice while Arwen openly watched, her face happy and wistful.

* * *

They had been in the Golden Wood for a week without incident when Orophin had come crashing into Glorfindel's quarters telling him to hurry out into the woods before blood was shed. It could only be Morwen and Haldir. Glorfindel shook his head in amusement as he walked into the grove, stumbling slightly as he felt the air filled with tension. Spotting two of the three people gathered there, he quickly understood why. Rumil looked up as he spotted Glorfindel's entrance and merely shrugged, as if to say he was also there to make certain no blood was shed. Glorfindel's gaze landed on the two elves caught up in a glaring match. While Haldir and Morwen's mutual annoyance with each other could often times be amusing, now was not the time for one of their legendary rows. To be fair, there were times when the relationship between the two made perfect sense and others when it was so nonsensical Glorfindel did not know what to do with the two of them. Haldir, his natural mischievousness, loved to bait and toy with Morwen, knowing that while she would become infuriated she would not be hurt. Morwen very clearly enjoyed sharpening her proverbial claws on Haldir, knowing he had the skin to weather such abuse. There were times when they both took it a little too far; no one was safe during those periods. Glorfindel had to keep himself from laughing as he remembered the syrup in the hair incident which caused Haldir to not only cut his hair but be late for his patrol and the equally horrific incident involving powdered coral lime and purple dye which had caused Morwen's dark hair to be bleached bright white (and almost break off) and her skin to stay a not-so-very-fetching color of purple for a good two months. 

Knowing Glorfindel would simply have to let the two elves fight their battle, he sat down beside Haldir's younger brother.

Glorfindel gave him an appraising look before asking, "What did you do to so upset a member of the Wandering Party?"

Rumil looked offended, "I merely called one of their elves an obvious amateur at guard duty. I've met dwarves who breathe quieter."

"Rumil, it is good you are not often sent out into other lands." Glorfindel muttered.

Rumil was about to respond when his attention was drawn to the two elves arguing

Glorfindel watched in horrified fascination as the voices of the elves continued to escalate.

"That's what I would expect from an elf with such a lowly background." Haldir sneered.

"Lowly?" Morwen sputtered, "Lowly? Listen, guardian…"

"March warden." Haldir corrected her.

"Wood elf!" Morwen yelled.

"Valley elf!" Haldir shot back.

"Tree climber!" Morwen replied.

"Named after a human!" Haldir answered.

Glorfindel and Rumil were both preparing to protest when Morwen answered for them.

"You were named after a human!" Morwen yelled, "All of your brothers were named after humans. What does that say about your family?"

"At least I have a family to be ashamed of for our name choices." Haldir said.

Glorfindel rose quickly sensing this was about to go far beyond the playful jests of the past.

"Haldir, Morwen, stop this. You are both acting worse than elflings." Rumil said as he too arose from the tree root. While Rumil tugged on his brother's arm, Glorfindel stood behind Morwen.

"Come brother, Orophin requested our aid earlier in his to address a letter to his father-in-law.

Glorfindel gave Rumil a grateful nod as he pressed his hands to Morwen's shoulders, guiding her out of the clearing, "Morwen, Arwen has requested our presence to witness one of her dances."

"Dances?" Morwen asked, voice quiet and head lowered.

"Yes, she has been practicing for some time; I believe this one is in the style Celebrian performed in Lindon years ago."

"Do you not mean Ages?" Morwen asked.

Glorfindel nodded, "I supposed that would be more accurate."

They walked in silence, through the glades and under the trees. Morwen kept her eyes on the ground, fearing a trip over a tree root. Glorfindel kept his eyes on Morwen, fearing a fall caused by far more than a root.

Glorfindel guided Morwen with a light hand as they settled down, the audience for Arwen's dance. Glorfindel gestured for Arwen to start as he leaned against a tree trunk, Morwen leaning against him.

Arwen began her dance; her feet were bare and her hair unbound. She was without adornment and yet the light through the trees jeweled her better than any gem could. He had heard stories of Luthien, though had only glanced her from a far once in the last years of her life, but he was sure Beren had witnessed a similar sight as he and Morwen were privy to now. Glorfindel recognized the dance, not from when Celebrian had preformed it, but from the times Idril had graced the court of Gondolin with her skill. Arwen was not perfect, she faltered her steps many times and missed a good many cues, but the dance was a difficult one to learn and Arwen clearly had more natural talent for it than Celebrian ever did. The people in Lindon, all save a handful, had never seen Idril perform the dance and therefore did not know the skill they praised in Celebrian's steps were that of an amateur in comparison with the daughter of Turgon who had mastered the dance long ago. It was, funnily enough, Glorfindel's first true realization that the world he left and the one he had returned to were very different beasts indeed.

Morwen sat quiet, nestled against him, wrapped in both his arms and the roots of the ancient mallorn. Glorfindel pressed soft kisses to her brow and hair while Morwen ran fingers idly over the palms of his hands. Both actions were more habit than declaration. She was deep in thought and while part of her mind was engaged in watching her friend the other part was somewhere Glorfindel could not touch.

Arwen finished her dance and Morwen let Glorfindel's hands free so they could both give their lord's daughter the praise she deserved.

"Was it as good as mother's dance?" Arwen asked.

Glorfindel smiled, "I dare say better; you could rival Idril in your skill.

"Idril was not a wood elf." Arwen said.

Glorfindel responded, "Indeed, but neither was your mother and that particular dance is derived from the Vanyar."

"Truly?" Arwen asked.

Glorfindel nodded, "Truly."

"You still performed it admirably." Elrond's voice rang out from across the glade. "I was enchanted."

Arwen's smile was blinding.

Elrond walked over to Arwen and pressed a soft kiss to her brow. He smiled at Morwen and Glorfindel, "If you will excuse us, I believe I must steal this lovely vision of elven beauty away before she enchants some unsuspecting elf."

Arwen ducked her head as a blush spread across her cheeks.

"Have a good night." Glorfindel said.

"You two as well." Elrond responded as he guided Arwen out of the area, whispering in his daughter's ear.

Glorfindel watched Morwen as she watched father and daughter walk off.

"You are related to Galadriel, are you not?" Morwen asked, her voice distant.

Glorfindel answered, "Distantly. All the higher order of elves are related. Laeriel is a cousin, connecting me to Thranduil. Galadriel's family comes from a distant cousin of my father, they are all tied together."

Morwen smiled, "I do not even know my father's name nor his house….." Morwen trailed off.

Glorfindel held his breath as he decided what to do; her father he could reveal, her brother even, but her mother's name….Glorfindel could not yet let it past his lips.

"You are a Noldo," Glorfindel said, "the family is from the House of The Tower and Pillar of Snow in Gondolin. While Erestor falls directly down Penlod's line, is in fact his grandson, your father was the child of Penlod's youngest brother, Mornaewon . Mornaewon was only a mere child when Gondolin fell. "

"What of Faeleth?" Morwen asked, avoiding any further questions about her family.

"She is not from Gondolin, though I dare say we could have used her. Her family comes from Lindon and I do believe her and Erestor met there." Glorfindel hugged Morwen close as he rested his chin a top her head, "Why do you suddenly ask about this?"

"Haldir," Morwen admitted, "Something he said did strike me, for once in our many years of…acquaintance."

"You never let Haldir's verbal spewage bother you." Glorfindel said.

"I have not felt myself since we left Imladris." Morwen said.

"Perhaps it is nothing but the darkness for Dol Guldur." Glorfindel said.

Morwen sat up straighter, "I am not that weak."

"It is not weakness, Morwen, it is merely your spirit unaccustomed to the whispers of dark magic." Glorfindel told her.

"I think it is more all the wizards and the wise." Morwen said.

Glorfindel tapped the top her head, "You have been on Arda much longer than any of those wizards."

"And still my lifetime is a mere speck on the span of theirs." Morwen said as she again leaned back into Glorfindel

"You will not let me offer you comfort, will you?" Glorfindel asked.

"No." Morwen answered, laughing.

"Then what shall we do?" Glorfindel asked.

Morwen shrugged, "Sit here quietly, watch the stars, enjoy the night."

Glorfindel leaned further back against the tree, bringing Morwen with him. "I suppose I shall do as my councilor bids."

Morwen said nothing but Glorfindel could feel her large smile against his chest.

* * *

Tirnion walked over the bridge, yawning as he felt the end of the day reach. It had been a long patrol and he was dearly looking forward to a rest. Tirnion had felt something tickling at the edge of his mind all day and had sent the troops back to the palace early, keeping only one other with him. Claurion followed his footsteps equally as tired. A feast was to come soon and both elves were desperate for a time of joy and dancing. 

As they walked past the last plank, Tirnion stopped, Claurion stumbling into his back.

"Captain?" Claurion asked.

Tirnion held up a hand to quiet him; he was certain he heard something fall into the river but as he glanced over the bridge he could not find any lost object.

"Did you hear something drop in the water?" Tirnion asked.

Claurion yawned, "Probably just a branch; ignore it. If a being was stupid enough to fall into the river, they will be asleep soon."

Tirnion thought he saw something move in the darkness but with his weariness, the night, and the ever thickening shadow he could not make out the shapes.

He grabbed Claurion's arm, "We must go forward quickly, I want the bonfire sentries up and around as soon as they are able."

Giving one last glance to the darkness Tirnion and Claurion began to run down the path into the palace.

* * *

A/N: **Thanks**

Renna, I'm glad you are still enjoying this story. It is taking me much longer than I planned to finish it (so is life) but I hope to wrap it up soon. Thanks for the review!

A/N 2: **For the Tirnion fans**

There is another new series of one-shots which take place following Tirnion's role and life in the story arc. It will only be on my livejournal because, well, besides Thranduil, Legolas, and occasionally some Imladris elves, it is all originally characters and I do not desire to take up anymore of this site's bandwith. The series is called "Future to Unfold" and one story has already been completed and posted.


	9. 9a In Lothlorien

**Disclaimer: See Previous Chapters**

**Note: This is essentially, two chapters, but it's really one. Part A is in Lothlorien and Part B in Mirkwood.**

**A Journey Begins**

**_Chapter Nine, Part A... In Lothlorien_**

_When in doubt, tell the truth._

- Mark Twain

**_Lothlorien, TA 2941_**

Glorfindel laid out on one of the massive mallorn branches, enjoying the slight sway of the tree as the winds passed through. It was a lovely day out, as it often was in the Golden Wood, and Glorfindel was enjoying these last few days of peace before the council officially begun. Galdor had arrived just this morning and rumors said Mithrandir was wandering around the borders, testing the experience of all the guardians. Glorfindel always marveled over the things Mithrandir would do to amuse himself.

Smelling the familiar odious scent of Mithrandir's ever present smoke, Glorfindel silently dropped down from the tree, hardly surprised the wizard already had his head raised in acknowledgement.

Glorfindel smiled at him as he used a fallen leaf to fan the flames in the other direction.

"So, you lost a hobbit." Glorfindel said.

"Twice." Mithrandir said. "Indeed, I did." The wizard muttered as he purposefully blew a smoke ring in Glorfindel's direction.

Glorfindel almost laughed at the familiar game. Instead he asked, "Where is the hobbit now?"

"Left him at the borders of Mirkwood." Mithrandir said. "Beorn provided them with food, supplies, and ponies."

"The dwarves were with him?" Glorfindel asked.

"The dwarves with were him." Mithrandir said, a slight twinkle in his eye.

"Does Thranduil know?" Glorfindel asked knowing the Woodland King did not often welcome sudden uninvited guests.

"He may know now." Mithrandir replied.

Glorfindel shook his head, "One day Thranduil will not be so generous in his regard of you."

"Thranduil loves when I visit; it takes the court gossip off him." Mithrandir said. "Do you plan on bringing your suspicions to light at this council?"

Glorfindel was hardly surprised at the change in subject. He leaned back against the tree, his fingers pressing into the soft grass. "I am still not certain. Morwen has gathered as much information as possible to provide enough evidence for an argument but…."

"It is not sufficient enough to support your deeper instincts." Mithrandir finished.

Glorfindel nodded, "I…Mithrandir I know I am not wrong in this I just cannot prove I am correct."

Mithrandir tapped his pipe out onto the ground. The wizard took off his hat and ran a hand over his head. "Glorfindel you are forcing me into a difficult situation. I have deep loyalties to both you and Curunir; he is my teacher and you are an old friend. He was chosen by the Valar, Glorfindel."

"Power turns even the most honorable into monsters." Glorfindel said. "Curunir is regarded as a great and powerful being by all realms who know of him." There was a sad look on Glorfindel's face as he said, "That hobbit is lucky for he knows little of what lies out there. I think it gives him more a greater understanding of things than any weakness."

"One of the reasons that hobbit is a vital part of this adventure and the reason I chose him. His ignorance makes him more the wiseman than the fool among the bunch." Mithrandir agreed

Both elf and wizard directed their gazes to the sky when they heard a whisper on the wind.

"Galadriel is in need of us." Glorfindel said as he stood and wiped the grass and leaves from his clothing.

He held out a hand to Mithrandir, allowing himself to be used as leverage as the wizard gained his footing. The wizard did not bother to clear off the detritus from the forest floor.

At Glorfindel's amused look Mithrandir said, "She has her home in a tree, Glorfindel. I believe Galadriel cannot be too offended that I am brining some of her forest floor up to the treetops."

Glorfindel laughed softly as he guided his friend to the path leading up to Galadriel's home.

* * *

Galdor and Morwen exchanged commiserating looks as the librarians of Lothlorien glared at them from a branch above.

Galdor leaned over to Morwen and whispered, "I assume I would too be protective if my library rested in a…."

"Tree?" Morwen asked.

Galdor nodded, "I wonder if I should be honored that I am currently Galdor of the Tree."

Morwen covered up her laughter as annoyed throats cleared above her.

Galdor silently went back to his own work as Morwen continued to sift through her own documents. The Council would be within days, only the party from Mirkwood and the party from Isengard yet to arrive. The councilors and their assistants from various realms were quickly sifting through the sources held in the Golden Wood in the hopes they would find even more evidence for their arguments.

The tables were full of councilors from Imladris, the Havens, the Golden Wood, the Wandering Company, and a group that had been assigned to assist Radagast and the other wizards. Maps, journals, packets of correspondence, books of lore, all were laid across the tables held down by the many paper weights created by the smiths of the realm.

"Do you wonder what this library has more of?" Galdor asked, "Books or paperweights?"

Morwen's eyes traveled over the tables and desks, the shelves hammered into tree limbs, the shelves hanging on the lips of storage chests and even the stack of paperweights on the table where she worked.

She met Galdor's eyes as they both said, "Paperweights."

"Western elves do not know when to be quiet." One of the librarians hissed from above.

Galdor waved a hand at the elves sand said, "Eastern elves do not know the meaning of privacy."

Many elves, Morwen included, were hard pressed not to laugh at the equally shocked and insulted visages of the librarians.

Galdor nudged Morwen's side and gestured to the book hiding under one of the maps. Morwen quickly handed it over to him. They were careful not to say anything about what they were studying and looking for as they kept up a stream of meaningless talk. The years of working together both in the Havens and Imladris made their work both fast and seamless.

Neither elf bothered to look up as the heavy curtain which served for a library door was pulled back nor did they bother to take notice of the new guest to the library who wore the heavier boots of a warrior rather than the light slippers of a scribe or councilor. It was not until an annoyed finger tapped on their table that either elf even acknowledged the other being.

Morwen and Galdor both glanced up and asked, "Yes?"

It took more than an annoyed march warden to distract them from their tasks.

Haldir stood silently by their tables, his foot lightly tapping on the boards which formed a floor. Galdor looked book and forth between Morwen and Haldir, having been informed by Rumil himself of their most recent fight, and gathered up the sources he was currently using.

"I think I shall go over to that empty desk for a moment." Galdor said. "I could use a bit of fresh air..er..more fresh air."

Morwen briefly bowed her head in thanks before she turned back to Haldir. The elf said nothing and Morwen merely shrugged and took up her reading again, using a quill to make additional notations in her ledger.

The march warden dropped his gaze and began to study the lines of the wooden table. When he spoke his voice was monotone. "Orophin suggested I may have caused some harm with my words from earlier. I…." Haldir swallowed a look of disgust on his face, "I apologize."

Morwen had the urge to harm him as equally as he had her but that would have changed the interesting dynamic of their acquaintance. She laid down her quill and studied Haldir's face. The expression in his eyes was much more worried and softer than that on his face.

"I accept." Morwen stated before taking up her quill again.

If Haldir was shocked or touched he did not show it. The march warden nodded and then asked, "Are you in need of anything?"

"Not from your hands." Morwen answered as she turned the pages of the book before her.

"I would hardly strive to personally serve a mere councilor of Imladris." Haldir replied as he turned to leave the library.

Morwen fought back a smile and ruefully shook her head as she again turned to her notes. She deiced to ignore the snickering from above her head until it became quite loud.

"It is unseemly of librarians to both eavesdrops and then laugh at their guests." Morwen said as she turned a page.

She openly smiled as the library again became silent; as silent as a library in a tree could be quiet. She said nothing as Galdor resumed his seat beside her; she merely passed him a book as he placed a map down in front of her. Normalcy was resuming and that was all Morwen desired in this moment.

* * *

The situation in Galadriel's study was a picture of interesting diplomatic relations. All the elves in the room were hard pressed to deny Glorfindel had the best of instincts among them. With the exception of Mithrandir, he was the elf to have the most recent personal contact with the Valar.

It would, however, be quite a different matter of using the mere instincts of an elf, a wise elf and among the Eldar but an elf nonetheless, in a charge against the head of the council himself.

"Do you truly believe this, Glorfindel?" Celeborn asked.

"Celeborn, I have little proof to offer but you know well how much instinct can often be more truthful than proof." Glorfindel said.

"Be that as it may, Glorfindel, you are in a manner accusing Curunir of high treason." Galadriel's cool voice stated. "Elrond, how do you stand on this?" she asked.

Elrond shook his head, "Galadriel I have never been led wrong by Glorfindel's instincts. His ability to see more into a situation than even foresight can provide has aided us far more than harmed us. I am also at odds with believing Curunir truly in pursuit of the One Ring or something in that manner. He can argue the presence of his spies near Mordor and the Anduin is simply a pursuit in finding where Sauron resides."

"We know well where Sauron resides." Glorfindel muttered. "May I remind everyone here he was the one who decreed would could not clear Sauron out and Mirkwood has continued to suffer. Sauron is gaining more power each day he feeds off the spirit of that forest and all the beings therein."

Galadriel stared at Glorfindel for a long moment before forming some sort of reply. "Glorfindel, I know you have your instincts and your insights from seeing things none of us here have, however, I must remind you of your own ability to deny your instincts and how your mind and your spirit have often been at battle."

"It is much easier to gauge a situation outside one's self rather than within, Galadriel." Elrond said in response to the slight insult Galadriel had directed at his friend.

Glorfindel simply looked at Galadriel with a heavy gaze. "We all make mistakes, Galadriel. Some that cost us dearly; I wonder, do you know where you will reside when the Age of the Elves is over?"

Celeborn stood up in anger but was pressed down by Galadriel's strong hand on his arm.

"Sit, Celeborn. Glorfindel had every right to repay the insult." Galadriel turned to Glorfindel, "You were also an exile."

"I was forgiven; in fact, all elves from Gondolin and their descendants were forgiven due to the price they paid. You, alas, have not yet faced your test." Glorfindel said.

"Are you my test?" Galadriel asked.

Mithrandir laughed loudly breaking the ever uncomfortable atmosphere of the study.

"Glorfindel, you create the most amusing of reactions in others." The wizard said. "My lady, my lord," Mithrandir gestured to Galadriel and Celeborn, "Trading insults and accusations will do none of us any good; it will undermine our purpose here. Glorfindel is not asking you to start the council with an accusation waged against Curunir. We have spoken of this matter many times and Glorfindel agrees not to call Curunir on his actions unless he sees just reason."

"Just reason?" Celeborn asked. "Such as?"

"If Curunir refuses aid to Mirkwood again I will find that as damming as if he was digging in Mordor himself." Glorfindel said. "Even the people of Gondor know a dark force resides in the woods and no, Mithrandir," Glorfindel said as he glanced at his friend, "they do not mean Thranduil."

Mithrandir said nothing as he leaned on his staff and looked out over the trees. "Curunir comes."

"He has been coming ever closer as we have discussed this matter." Galadriel said. "It is possible his own spies could have heard us."

"Then perhaps you should have informed all of us of that matter three hours ago when Curunir passed the borders rather than just informing your husband." Elrond said as he stood and clearly ignored the uncomfortable look on Galadriel's face.

"We also all have our secrets." Glorfindel said as he held back the curtain to let Elrond pass. "And we all have our doubts and our mistrusts even of each other. I did not come here to sway you one way or the other, Galadriel. I merely thought it better for you to be informed by my own mouth and my own words rather than by the rumors which have passed or the spies you have set in the library over Morwen and Galdor." Glorfindel paused for a moment, a triumphant smile on her face, "She may be young and experienced, Galadriel, but she knows well how to tell the difference between a librarian and a spy." With his final words Glorfindel left the room, letting the curtain fall back behind him.

Mithrandir coughed to cover up his own laughter and cleared his throat before stating, "Even the wisest can often be fools when they put too much stock in their age and experience and think the young and the new to be lacking in wisdom. Age does not make an elf old or young, Galadriel. That is why your own majority ceremonies differ depending on realm, time, and environment. Do not rest on what you already know and blind yourself to what you have yet to learn. Foresight can be misleading, you know this."

Galadriel merely nodded before smoothing her dress down and standing up. "I will consider your council, Mithrandir. My husband and I must now go greet the newest arrival."

Mithrandir watched as Galadriel and Celeborn walked slowly out of the room, more floating than seeming to touch the ground. Mithrandir studied the trees for a moment and listened to what the forest had to say.

"So, that is how it will be then." The wizard murmured, unmindful of the new wrinkles that withered his face as he pondered the many events currently taking place. His mind turned to another wood not so far away and the occupants traveling therein.

* * *

The minstrels of the Wandering Party had gathered many an elf, and even a wizard or two, in to one of the largest glades as they sang and danced the many songs they had learned from the many realms they had visited.

Morwen sat with Galueth to one side and Arwen to the other, amused over the fact that even when she was not in Imladris, she was with a daughter of Erestor and a "daughter" of Elrond.

"Will you be returning to Imladris anytime soon?" Morwen asked Elrond's youngest.

Arwen bowed her head as a small smile appeared, "Not yet; I still must bestow my gift on Rumil."

Morwen shook her head, "Why him? Out of all of the elves in Arda…"

"Hush, Morwen." Galueth said. "It could have been Haldir."

Morwen sat up straighter at those words and patted Arwen's hand. "Arwen, Rumil is a fine choice. Lovely elf. Will make you happy, I suppose."

"Hope, Morwen, not suppose." Galueth advised.

"I hope." Morwen said.

Arwen just laughed, "Morwen, I am not expecting Rumil to be the elf I will seek to marry." Arwen shook her head, "No, I merely desire to be courted by more than one elf before I decide who it is I will bind my soul with."

Morwen and Galueth, both having settled on the fist elves they had ever been in a romantic relationship with, gave Arwen a curious look.

"There is nothing wrong settling with one's first choice." Arwen assured them, as a mother would assure a confused child. "I simply see no reason to not explore the options before me."

Morwen and Galueth met gazes before they both shook their heads.

"I knew it would be Orophin the first time we met." Galueth said.

Morwen nodded, "Once I recognized my feelings as more than a familial or friendly love, I knew there could be no other but Glorfindel."

"Truly?" Arwen asked.

Morwen and Galueth nodded.

"Then I suppose I have not met the right elf yet." Arwen said before laughing. "Perhaps it will be a man."

"When will you ever meet a human man for longer than the time he stays at your father's house?" Galueth asked.

"Perhaps my father's fosterling." Arwen said.

Morwen laughed, "Arwen he is only ten years old! He is a mere child now and so much younger than…." Morwen tailed off. "That argument doesn't work for me, does it?"

Arwen and Galueth shook their heads.

"Well, besides." Morwen said, "Estel is of the Dunedain. He will spend more of his adult years in the Wild than in Imladris."

Arwen made to respond before she spotted the elf headed over to them. "Hello, Orophin!" she called out.

Orophin nodded at Arwen and Morwen before sitting down beside his wife and greeting her with a soft kiss.

"Has the performance gone well?" He asked her.

Galueth nodded, "The Wandering Company is quite talented. You should have been here."

"I had to show respect to our newest guests." Orophin said before briefly taking his eyes off his wife and settling them on Morwen. "Your Lord requests your presence in the main talan as the party from Mirkwood has arrived."

"Do you know who was in the party?" Morwen asked.

"The crown prince, his wife, I did not recognize any of the other elves." Orophin said. "Arwen, you should go as well."

"I suppose it would be the proper thing to do." Arwen sighed as she stood up.

Morwen pressed a hand to her shoulder, "I am certain your father will not keep your there long. It is just better to have the ruler's children meet the ruler's children."

"I have seen Berenon," Arwen said as they left the glade, waving their goodbyes to Galueth and Orophin, "But I have never had the chance to speak with him besides formal pleasantries."

"He is a good elf." Morwen said. "Kind and loyal to his friends. There is a slight sadness to him though. He was born before the end of the Second Age and remembers well the damage his people suffered."

"He was born in the Second Age?" Arwen asked, awed.

"Yes, as was Merileth. Thranduil married his wife in the Second Age."

"He only became King at the end of it, how…."

"He only took his crown at the end of it." Morwen said. "Oropher died before the final battle, if you will recall. That is all I will say of the matter. The rest is a story best told by the royal family themselves."

"I have never been to Mirkwood." Arwen pouted, much like she had as a child.

"Then perhaps you should visit." Morwen said as they came to the staircase leading to Galadriel's and Celeborn's platform used for the greeting of new guests.

Morwen thought it a bit cruel to make weary travelers climb so many staircases before resting but she was forced to remember tired men and women did not often come into Caras Galadhon. As they moved closer to the top, Arwen leading the way with a deftness bred only by familiarity, Morwen smiled as she spotted the familiar greens and browns of Mirkwood.

As they came to the top of the platform, Morwen softly laughed at what she saw.

Berenon was shaking Elrond's hand; his expression slightly awestruck.

"Berenon has recently begun intense studies on the lore penned by Lord Elrond." Rilasseth said. "He has begun to worship Lord Elrond just a little."

"Quite different from the last time he was in Imladris." Morwen said as she greeted Rilasseth. "Your journey was uneventful?"

Rilasseth shook her head, "No journey through Mirkwood could be uneventful but no one died so we are thankful."

Morwen nodded before beckoning Arwen before, "Lady Rilasseth of Mirkwood, I would like to introduce you to Lady Arwen of Imladris."

Arwen shook Rilasseth's hand as she smiled. It was quite amusing for Morwen to see the delicate Arwen standing next to the archer's body of Rilasseth. The Mirkwood elf was also noticeably taller but all that was forgotten in the face of Rilasseth's warm smile.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, Lady Arwen. I have had many friends tell me great things about you."

Arwen nodded, "Thank you. I must confess, being in Lothlorien for many years news of Mirkwood is surprisingly…." Arwen stopped as she searched for the most polite word.

"The same can be said for news of Lothlorien in Mirkwood." Rilasseth assured her.

Arwen nodded and asked, "Morwen called you 'Lady' are you not a princess?"

Rilasseth shook her head, "There has not been a queen of our realm since Thranduil's mother faded and there never shall be one until a female descendant of Thranduil sits on the throne."

"That is quite an honor to the memory of Thranduil's mother." Arwen said, her smile sad and her gaze far-off.

"Her passing was one of the worse for the people as my mother told me. Oropher blamed her escort for her death. All elves of our realm were killed; all the Noldor and other Silvan elves survived as the legend goes. I do not know much of it and it is not spoken of in our realm." Rilasseth said.

"How long ago was this?" Morwen asked.

"Sometime in the Second Age, before Thranduil had even met Laeriel." Rilasseth said.

"They were on the way to Lindon." Glorfindel said as he joined the group. He embraced Rilasseth giving her a curious look and a smile. "You are doing quite well." Glorfindel said, not asked.

"I have actually been a little ill these past few days. I swear I had a bad batch of the foodstuffs but no one else has fallen ill." Rilasseth said.

"You are well." Glorfindel assured her. "I do not wish to end this reunion, but Curunir is calling for the council to convene."

"Now?" Morwen asked.

"Yes," Glorfindel said, "the head of our council says that since our final members have arrived we can now commence with the matter."

"We could have used more notice." Morwen said.

"Curunir claims we have had long enough. Elrond has attempted to stall the proceedings, claiming the elves of Mirkwood had not been granted the time to research Lothlorien archives like the rest of us."

"And what did that wizard say?" Rilasseth asked, her eyes glinting for a moment.

Glorfindel's smile was grim. "That wizard states that as Mirkwood is so close to Lothlorien if the members of the realm so desired to read through the archives they could have done so before this date. Apparently, that wizard should not be punished for the laziness of Mirkwood's elves." Glorfindel held up a hand as Rilasseth looked ready to tell Glorfindel just where Curunir could go, "I know, Rilasseth. It's a horribly ignorant thing to say. As it is, I want that wizard as far from all the elven realms as possible."

Rilasseth curtly nodded, "Then we should go now. The sooner that wizard departs the better we all shall be. He brings conflict wherever he goes." Rilasseth said. "I much more prefer Mithrandir and Radagast."

"I do not disagree." Glorfindel said. "Now, as your husband appears to be curiously hanging on to ever word Elrond has to say," Glorfindel held out his arm, "Please, let me escort you."

Rilasseth, clearly amused, took Glorfindel's arm as he led her to the council floor.

Morwen gave Arwen a brief hug. "Watch the rest of the performance of the Wandering Party for me?"

Arwen nodded, "I will remember it well. I only need to retrieve my sewing." Arwen smiled at Morwen's confused look, "I promised Elladan I would make him a specially embroidered tunic and as the council is starting you may be departing soon."

"Elladan wishes to make himself more distinct from Elrohir?" Morwen asked.

Arwen smiled, "You shall see. There are some things even friends do not tell each other until the right time. Truthfully he did not even tell me but I was able to ascertain from his last letter."

"You are very much your father's child." Morwen said.

"Is the councilor lost?" The familiar voice of Haldir interrupted their conversation.

"The councilor is right here." Morwen stated. "She is not lost."

"Then perhaps she should show that intelligence she is rumored to have and make haste to the council platform." Haldir said as he gave a nod to Arwen.

Making a face at Haldir's back, Morwen left as Arwen attempted to disguise her laughter.

* * *

Talk of the various matters of the realms had passed between all. There were discussions of the ever debatable syrup trade. There were requests for aid from both elves and wizards. There was mention that someone should contact the realms of Men.

Morwen felt most of the council so far had been nothing but meaningless busy talk as the various members began to weigh the value of each other. At least when she had been a scribe she had been too busy writing down every single word to be bored. Now as the day gave way to night she was forcing herself not to begin counting stars.

"I purpose we discuss the matter of the elves of Imladris and their apparent spying into my personal affairs." Curunir's low voice rang out among the council.

Morwen felt her body tense though she refused to give any other visible reaction. She sat at the end of the Imladris party, Galdor to one side and Hurin, a senior councilor of Imladris since the realm's foundations, on the other. Galdor's gaze was full of reassurance while Hurin's was clearly confused.

"I must confess, Curunir," Elrond's emotionless voice said, "I am confused by your words. I know not what you mean."

"Oh, I am sure you do." Curunir said. "I have it on good faith that one of your councilors has been recently looking into all sorts of documents which concern me."

"Perhaps the councilor was merely trying to prepare themselves for the competition." Mithrandir said in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

"As this elf has already met me at a council, I do not think that is reason." Curunir said. "So, why is it, Councilor Morwen, that you have found the need to violate my privacy and disregard all ties of trust reserved for this council?"

Morwen felt the eyes on her but merely held her head high. She opened her mouth to make a response but Glorfindel spoke first.

"I ordered her to look into that matter." Glorfindel said. "It was my decision due to my suspicions. You have no right to take such a tone with one of our councilors nor to accuse them of such things. If you are angered, Curunir, direct your anger at me."

Curunir's face was clearly disgusted as his eyes passed between Morwen and Glorfindel. The wizard knew attacking a new councilor would come without ramifications but one did not attack a hero of the elven world without good cause. Curunir gripped his staff and said, "If your councilor knew well her position she would have turned down such an assignment. Of course, what else can we expect from a councilor with such a personal interest in your own desires."

Morwen would have stood up in protest if it was not for the tight hold Galdor had on her arm.

"Curunir, that was uncalled for." Mithrandir stated.

"I agree," Galadriel said, "I do not think mere gossip has any place at this council of the Wise."

Morwen did not have the time to spare Galadriel a grateful glance before Curunir said.

"Very well, Galadriel, but I think I do have the right to hear what this mere councilor has to say for her actions." The wizard spat.

Anger and humiliation were warring inside Morwen but it was in a cool and clam tone she replied to the wizard. "I am a mere councilor, Curunir, you are correct. I am also a mere councilor who has traveled through a good portion of Arda in pursuit of a greater understanding of this world. I am a mere councilor who does as her older and wiser bid her, as any councilor would do. I am a subordinate who does the works she is bid, personal feelings or not. That being said, I am quite glad I was trusted enough to look into the matter. I have never said anything about what I found besides reporting my findings to the elf who assigned me the task. As I believe we all know, Glorfindel values secrecy among all else and so I must wonder, Curunir, how it is you have found out about my work? Could it be that you are also looking into the personal matters of my realm and, if you are, should not Lord Elrond have something to say in regards to your apparent spying on our affairs and your apparent lack of trust in Imladris?"

"That is preposterous!" Curunir exclaimed.

"But Curunir," Berenon asked, a smile reminiscent of his father gracing his face, "how did you know of the matter Morwen was looking into. I must confess, when she was researching many years ago in our own library I did not know what it was until my father saw fit to inform me."

Curunir just stared at Berenon and said nothing.

"I call an end to the day's session." Galadriel said. "Perhaps tomorrow we can speak of more rational and pressing things."

"I am the council leader, Galadriel." Curunir reminded her.

"This is my realm." Galadriel reminded him as she stood up, Celeborn beside her.

Morwen watched the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood pass, looking ethereal as ever; even when Lord Celeborn graced her with a small smile as they left. The councilors stayed seated as they waited for all the lords and wizards to leave, as custom bade them to do. As Elrond and Glorfindel left and Galdor stood, Morwen forced herself up on shaky legs, grateful for the arm of the Haven's elf which was held out to steady her. Hurin placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Erestor would have been proud of you." Hurin said. "You turned that foolish argument of Curunir's back on him and forced him to look a fool. That was a smart move. But be careful, young one, you do not want to make more of an enemy of that wizard."

"Thank you, Hurin." Morwen stated as Galdor waited for the elder elf to pass.

"Let us go." Galdor said, "As he passed Elrond told me to escort you to the glade Arwen often occupies. It is private and guarded by Galadriel's own power. Just keep that councilor face on until we get there." Galdor instructed her.

Morwen greatly took the order as she clung to her friend, feeling the eyes of the those still in the chamber follow her out of the room.

* * *

Morwen sat against a base of one of the massive mallorn trees, her face in her hands.

Galueth sat on one side of her, running a soothing hand over her back while Arwen stood pacing and spouting off more elven curses than she had the good right to know.

"I have never been so mortified." Morwen kept repeating over and over in a frantic whisper.

"Where are the others?" Galueth asked Galdor.

"I am certain they are in a private conference. Curunir might be attempting to have Morwen removed from the council." Galdor said. "As council head he can make that motion but they will need a majority vote and I do not think any will support him."

"Should you not be there?" Galueth asked.

"No, it is only for the most powerful and wise to decide. Berenon will not be there either." Galdor said.

Arwen stopped in her pacing and finally sat down. "That horrible wizard, how dare he!"

"He was threatened and he attacked." Glorfindel said as he entered the glade. Galueth quickly moved out of the way to make space for Glorfindel.

Morwen turned into Glorfindel's arms, burying her head in his shoulder and murmuring about "embarrassment" and "failure."

"It was a foolish thing for him to do." Haldir said as he entered the glade, performing as a guard for Lord Elrond who now sat down beside his still infuriate daughter. "Curunir has now raised the suspicions of other realms; he never answered Morwen's inquires, and he attacked someone so clearly below him."

Haldir raised a brow at all the dark looks thrown his way. "By status Morwen is far below him." Haldir said.

"Haldir is correct." Elrond agreed as he passed a soothing hand over Arwen's hair. "Curunir had no reason to attack a 'mere councilor' as he put it. Though Gildor passes his compliments to us for such an exciting start to a council."

Glorfindel kissed Morwen's brow. "No one faults you." He assured her.

"Thank you for that lovely lie." Morwen said as she finally lifted her head.

"Would you like me to push him off a talan?" Haldir asked. "You would be quite surprised how many people never notice the webbing around the platforms. They are quite easy to remove."

Morwen smiled, almost surprise she could do so, "Oh, Haldir, you are far too kind."

"I always put aside personal feelings when it comes to getting what I want as well. I have never trusted that wizard overmuch." Haldir said. "Unlike Mithrandir who does test our forces well but also praises our abilities, Curunir appears to exist only to find fault with us."

"Mithrandir and Radagast have little of Curunir's arrogance." Galdor agreed.

Elrond nodded, "He is more likely to deal with the realms of Men than the realms of Elves."

Morwen cleared her throat and said, "Tirnion told me Thranduil decreed immediate arrest of Curunir if he ever walks into Mirkwood."

Glorfindel laughed, "Curunir _was_ the one who decreed Dol Guldur could not be attacked and therefore the wood has become more dangerous."

"I doubt the actions of tonight will make him more beloved to the Mirkwood elves." Elrond said. "Berenon knows well there is no honor in a grown wolf attacking a domestic kitten."

"Curunir's actions tonight may well serve Mirkwood's purpose." Glorfindel said as ran his fingers up and down Morwen's face. "To salvage his reputation he may be more inclined to offer aid to Mirkwood. He knows he is suspected now and any action not taken against Dol Guldur will only weigh against Curunir ."

"Enough talk of council." Arwen ordered from her father's side. "It is over for the night. The moon and stars are shining. I say we find the Wandering Party and join in their songs and dances."

No one dared to disobey the daughter of Lord Elrond.

* * *

Glorfindel silently readjusted the patrol roster for when he would return. It was the third day of the council. There were only two more before they would be forced to break for good. None of the wizards enjoyed staying in one place for far too long and Mithrandir was adamant he must travel to Mirkwood. Rumor had it, rumor of course being Berenon, Thranduil was not very pleased with the legendary rudeness of the dwarves. There had been something about dungeons, spiders, and disturbing the peace, but Berenon was far too amused to explain his father's most recent letter without laughing.

He wondered if he should inform the crown prince that Rilasseth was with child. Rilasseth herself did not yet seem to know but Glorfindel and many of the other elder elves had sensed the elven spirit inside her since she crossed into the woods.

Mithrandir currently held the floor and was pleading the case of Mirkwood and the need to take Dol Guldur with force and clear it out.

"The wood and all its occupants, even the mortals on the borders, cannot handle a worsening situation." The wizard, whom Glorfindel personally felt was wiser than any other here, spoke with great emotion.

The delegation of Mirkwood nodded in agreement. It was a rare and very thankful day when none of the elves returned from the patrols dead, or even less, uninjured. Glorfindel was only slightly surprised Thranduil had not marched into the council himself and demanded aid but it was not the way of the Woodland King to abandon his people.

"Perhaps the wood elves are merely imagining how bad the situation has become due to the presence of the spiders." Curunir suggested.

Glorfindel felt his eyes widen at the statement. He quickly looked around the council. Elrond looked ready to curse, Celeborn looked ready to throw Curunir off the platform, Morwen and Galdor both sat with their jaws visibly dropped.

Many things could be said about the woodland elves of Mirkwood but certain things could not be denied. The elves were fierce warriors because they had to be; their numbers had been visibly shrinking due to the loss from all the battles.

"Many of our elves have died on patrols, Curunir." Berenon said, his tone much calmer than any Glorfindel would expect, "and it has not been the spiders which have shot them down."

"Perhaps your elves faked their supposed losses; I would not blame any for running away from a wood which keeps degenerating due to the lack of skill from its up keepers." Curunir said.

Gildor now looked infuriated and even Mithrandir looked ready to give Curunir a good talking to.

Berenon stood, his knuckles white as he griped his hands in fists, "I can assure you the attacks on our people are not of our own imagination. Would you like to see where we have buried all the corpses?"

Rilasseth placed a hand on Berenon's shoulder, forcing him back down into his chair.

Berenon continued, "If you do not believe how bad it has become, if you do not believe the darkness which leaks out from Dol Guldur then please, come spend a night out in the wild of our forest." The elf spat.

Glorfindel had never been more proud of the elf than at the moment, Laeriel would not have said it better, nor Thranduil more cutting.

Curunir sniffed dismissively before turning his gaze to his favorite target. Curunir had taken to attacking Morwen at least once each day of the council. There was little anyone could do stop the wizard. He had not raised a hand to Morwen, merely the sharp side of his tongue.

Glorfindel noted, however, this time Morwen was prepared. As the wizard opened his mouth to surely make some sort of scathing comment in regards to the 'mere councilor of Imladris,' (Haldir was particularly annoyed the wizard had taken the march warden's favorite title for Morwen), Morwen met the wizard's gaze and spoke first.

"You may attack me all you desire as long as something is done for Mirkwood." Morwen said. "You cannot honestly suggest, Curunir, that I am the reason for that as well, can you?"

Celeborn and Gildor both covered up their laughter with coughs and while Elrond and Galdor both fought back smiles, Berenon was grinning broadly.

"Well, Curunir, what do you say?" Mithrandir asked.

Glorfindel reveled in the look of angered defeat on Curunir's face. Glorfindel sat back and waited to hear the good news.

* * *

The end of the council had come and the wizards were riding to Dol Guldur, Berenon and most of the delegation from Mirkwood behind him. Rilasseth would stay here until Berenon had given the all clear. Apparently another situation was brewing involving the dwarves, the hobbit, a dragon, the realms of Men, and the elves of Mirkwood.

A combined group of elves from Mirkwood, Imladris, Lothlorien, the Havens, and the Wandering Party were gathered in one of the meadows. Arwen and Gildor were entertaining the large group with a song and a dance most elves learned in their childhood. Galadriel was laughing as she watched her granddaughter dance circles around the nimble Gildor.

Elrond happily watched his daughter, grateful to all to see a smile on her face and a lack of grief. He was settled at the far end of the meadow, going through is many messages. Celeborn was with them, glad to freely watch his granddaughter from the shadows of the trees near them without having to appear the Lord of the realm. Haldir was not far off, ever watchful.

Glorfindel and Morwen were quietly bickering over some matter while Galueth was resting peacefully next to Orophin. Rilasseth was speaking quietly with Galdor about the ceremonies that would needed to be performed for the newest member of the royal family.

It was a nice thing to see; knowing that as inconvenient as the council was, they were doing it to protect this.

Elrond turned to his sorely neglected correspondence, surprised to find a letter from Mirkwood in the bunch. Scanning it he began to laugh, drawing the attention of Glorfindel and Morwen, "Apparently Thranduil has lost the hobbit as well." Elrond said. He scanned further down the letter, "And the dwarves."

Glorfindel was trying not to laugh when Elrond said.

"Thranduil would also like to inform us there were thirteen of them not twelve."

"Did I say twelve?" Morwen asked, surprised.

"You must have." Elrond said.

"Oh, dear." Morwen answered. "Well I must have mistaken one for the other in my final count."

"Two did have very similar names and wore the same blue hoods." Glorfindel assured her. "Thranduil would have lost count, I am sure, if they were not all kept in single dungeons."

"How did they escape?" Celeborn asked,.

"Thranduil does not know. The night after a feast Tirnion went down to patrol the dungeons after hearing the captain of the dungeon guards had fallen asleep on duty and found every last cell empty." Elrond said.

Rilasseth let out a low whistle, "Oh, Thranduil must not be very happy."

"Best watch out for the next kin slaying." Celeborn said. "And why are you smiling?" He asked Glorfindel

Glorfindel shrugged, "Curunir knows he is being watched; Mithrandir has been given permission to clean out Dol Guldur; Rilasseth's with child and staying here until Mithrandir's clears out the darkness. Honestly, we achieved all we wanted. I believe that is reason to celebrate."

"Having the forest cleared out will be an even better reason." Rilasseth said. "Perhaps it will be green again and will be green again soon."

Celeborn nodded as he pressed a palm to the tree he sat against, "One can hope."

Elrond watched as Morwen's face had brightened at Rilasseth's words. The elf had been pestering Glorfindel to let her ride to Mirkwood for quite some time.

"No." Glorfindel said as he too saw the look on her face.

Morwen snuggled closer to Glorfindel but stayed silent.

"No." Glorfindel said a second time.

Morwen rested her head on his shoulder and intertwined their hands as she softly hummed a wordless tune.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and said again, "No."

Morwen pressed a soft kiss to their hands and blinked her eyes slowly.

"Oh, fine. I bow down to your will. We will go to Mirkwood but only after Mithrandir is done with his task."

Morwen smiled and tilted her head up, giving Glorfindel a quick kiss. "You are too kind to me."

"How did she…" Haldir said with the slightest hint of respect.

Celeborn smiled, "One day, my dear Haldir, you will fall in love and whomever you fall in love with will know you will do anything to please them. That is how one's lover wins a battle without words or arms."

"It also helps one's argument when the opposing party wishes to do the same thing. Glorfindel has been making noise about assuring himself Balanauth has settled in nicely." Elrond said.

Glorfindel nodded, "I did promise I would be there for his wedding." Looking down at Morwen to assure her he did not merely give into her whims, "And I had to speak with Tirnion anyway."

"Either way I get what I want, so believe what you must." Morwen said before turning her eyes to where Arwen was still dancing.

Elrond closed his eyes in thanks as he felt the laughter roll through him and all around him. As the night passed, he bathed in the warmth of his father's star and prayed things were going as well for Mirkwood, Imladris, and all of Arda.


	10. 9b In Mirkwood

_**A Journey Begins, Chapter 9, Part Two**_

**Disclaimer: See Previous Chapters**

**Note: This is essentially, two chapters, but it's really one. Part A is in Lothlorien and Part B in Mirkwood.**

**A Journey Begins**

**_Chapter Nine, Part B... In Mirkwood_**

_When in doubt, tell the truth._

- Mark Twain

**_Mirkwood, TA 2941_**

Thranduil sat on the balcony of his room looking out over his realm. There had been an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach since Tirnion and Claurion had returned. Patrols had been sent out all over the wood, some going as far as the borders. Even Berenon had promised to keep a look out as they rode to Lothlorien. His fingers ran over the autumn crown in his lap. He never thought the day would come when he would honestly ponder moving every last elf out of Mirkwood. As more and more reports came in, Thranduil was left wondering what he should do.

"I need you." Thranduil whispered to the wind, hoping the trees he so loved would carry the message to their cousins in Aman.

Thranduil stood up and donned his crown, smoothed down his clothing and prepared to go out to meet his councilors.

As soon as he opened the door to his chambers, the flurry begun. Various voice stated 'my king this' and 'my king that' before Tangwen called them all to scatter.

"Tirnion said the black squirrels told him of the new visitors." Tangwen informed him as they walked down the hall.

"Squirrels?" Thranduil asked,

"Squirrels." Tangwen answered. "Tirnion has an odd affinity for them and they trust him."

Thranduil shrugged, "I speak with birds and my son has actually spoken to the dragon in the Lonely Mountain so I suppose squirrels are normal."

"Of course squirrels are normal." Tirnion said as Thranduil and Tangwen entered the study.

Thranduil went to his favorite chair, pressing a kiss to Legolas hair as he walked by.

His son shook his head but said nothing as he went back to carving a bow with Quenya script.

"What do the reports say?" Thranduil asked as he settled in the plush chair.

Tirnion looked down at the reports in his hands, "One creature I am assuming is a hobbit and dwarves. Thirteen dwarves."

"Mithrandir also said thirteen. Imladris said twelve. " Thranduil remarked.

"Apparently they miscounted." Tangwen said as she studied her son's notes, " I cannot blame them; the do all look quite alike."

"Morwen said they had more dealings with the hobbit and the wizard; the dwarves kept to themselves." Tirnion answered as he held up one of the letters containing Morwen's description. Thranduil bid him to come forward.

Thranduil glanced over the letter before asking, "Did every elf in Imladris forget how to count?"

"To be fair Thranduil, what sounds better 'twelve dwarves' or 'thirteen dwarves'?" Tangwen asked.

"I'd rather it be 'no dwarves'." Thranduil said as he handed the letter back to Tirnion. "Please give me a moment to think."

* * *

Tirnion sat beside his mother in the study as he went over the current patrol lists, debating over who could be moved where. It would not do the realm any good if the warriors became overworked.

Before Tirnion had heard that plop in the water the squirrels he was acquainted with had informed him of the new visitors. He had set patrols out to watch both on the ground and in the trees.

All reports made mention of a group containing many short, round, bearded and complaining creatures traveling with a short, round, and oddly footed creature, who looked the size of a human child. Having read Morwen's description of the traveling company, Tirnion could only assume it was the group of dwarves, apparently thirteen and not twelve, though even the patrols were confused on that for some time, and a hobbit. Thranduil had confirmed his suspicious this morning with the late arrival of a letter from Mithrandir.

Thranduil finally spoke, "We will test our new visitors and their honor and endurance." The King announced.

"My King," Tangwen said, "I do not think it proper to tease our new guests so."

"My dear councilor, I assure you, there is little reason not to merely toy with our new guests. They are trespassing after all." Thranduil said.

"Mithrandir has sent you a letter of notice." Tangwen reminded him.

Thranduil shrugged, "It arrived too late, I am afraid and with little description of who or what the guests might be."

"Thranduil…." Tangwen trailed off. It was tone of voice Tirnion had come to fear, but the Woodland King merely laughed.

"Tangwen, I have so little cause for amusement these days. Please do not deny me this." Thranduil almost looked like a pleading elfling.

Tangwen turned back to her papers, "I could hardly stop your actions if I tried."

"I do often heed your advice." Thranduil assured her.

"I suppose I should be thankful you actually listen to me." Tangwen's said with a long-suffering sigh.

"Indeed." Thranduil answered. "Now, Legolas," he called to his son, "Gather your archers and friends and have them join the campfire sentries Tirnion has already put in place."

Legolas placed down his bow and nodded before quickly departing from the stone hall.

"Tangwen, have that son-in-law of yours and his fellows warriors who can attempt to sing join Legolas. We will have music and a feast." Thranduil said.

"Thranduil, are you certain that this is wise?" Tangwen asked.

Thranduil nodded as he stood up from his seat, "The spiders have not wandered this far into the wood. It is still possible to have some merrymaking. However, to be cautious I would not risk the lives of my people who are unaccustomed to the new night in the woods; they will have a feast inside the hall." Thranduil said as he turned his head to Tirnion

"I suppose you want me to handle that?" Tirnion asked as he resigned himself to temporarily taking on the tasks of a house keeper.

Thranduil nodded, "They will have questions for you and it would be more reassuring to the people if their captain was present."

"What of Legolas?" Tirnion had to ask, wondering why the son of the King got out of the duty while the captain did not.

Thranduil's smile was dangerous, "I believe the court describes him as a young fool who will befriend anything. I do not think you have much to worry about in that regard."

Tirnion had to admit he had heard similar things. Still, he said, "Do not be too certain; I did befriend many Noldor."

"All my children are part Noldor." Thranduil reminded Tirnion.

"Tirnion, just go." Tangwen said.

"Yes mother." Tirnion answered before hurrying out the room. He knew better than to disobey his mother, no matter how old he may be, she was always older. Tirnion had no desire to deal with a formal feast, but even he knew it would be better to have the civilians distracted so the warriors and guards could perform their duties without incident.

* * *

Balanauth was unpacking his bags even as he marveled over the size of the rooms he had been gifted with by King Thranduil's own orders. They were rooms fit for a captain; a bedroom, a study, a small adjacent empty chamber, a personal bathing chamber, all for too extravagant for a mere soldier from another realm.

"The rooms are quite small in comparison to my sons and Tirnion's, though he tends to reside in his family home more often than not." King Thranduil said.

Balanauth forced down his visible twitch at the surprise he felt at the sudden presence of the other elf.

"They are quite spacious, King Thranduil." Balanauth said. "I thank you for your generosity."

King Thranduil waved a hand in dismissal as he began to wander around the main room. "I fear once your soon to be wife joins you, you will find the rooms a touch too small." A full smile briefly appeared on the woodland king's face, "Or perhaps not. I always felt rooms could be far too big in the early years of my marriage."

"I regret I did not see Lady Laeriel more often." Balanauth said, "She was quite dear to Glorfindel however…"

"Glorfindel tended to visit here rather than Laeriel traveling outside of the realm." Thranduil smiled, "I often found it quite peculiar how my wife desired to spend so little time among her fellow Noldor. She blamed me of course. Claimed I turned her into a wood elf."

Balanauth ducked his head, "May I ask why you…."

"Do not sail?" Thranduil finished, "My task is not yet done and no ruler should ever leave his people in such darkness. Until I can be certain this kingdom will be safe for many ages to come, I will not leave."

"Such a thing can never be certain." Balanauth said.

"Not if I pick a good king to follow me. Legolas is far too free spirited and young to take up a throne. He could be a lord over a small settlement perhaps but never something as complicated as Mirkwood. The men in the surrounding villages also have little respect for him, knowing well he is the youngest son of a king. Legolas cares little for their regard but such things can cause dissent."

"What of Berenon?" Balanauth felt compelled to ask.

A soft smile settled on Thranduil's face. "At times he seems more poet than king and while I have never had doubt in his abilities or dedication I know it will not be him. One of his children, perhaps, will be better suited."

"Berenon has no children." Balanauth muttered, confused.

Thranduil grinned, "Not at the moment no, by this time next year…."

Balanauth's eyes widened, "Does…he…how…"

"The older you become, Balanauth, the easier it will be for you to detect such things as a newly forming spirit. Though, being a healer helps greatly." At Balanauth's confused look Thranduil said, "My mother was a great healer. Her gifts, well, I had always hoped Tholinnas children will carry them on."

"He….." Balanauth stopped his words in disbelief.

Thranduil smiled again, "Sometimes the dreams Lorien grants us are very telling." The King walked out of the room. "Please, join us tonight at the feast. I may even convince Tirnion to sing with his siblings."

Balanauth smiled as he put a book on the massive shelves, "Thank you."

"And bring Tollureth with you." King Thranduil said as he closed the door.

Balanauth laughed and shook his head. He had apparently left one blond impish elf for another.

* * *

Thranduil had to stop the amused smile that was waging quite a war to appear. Legolas had earlier excused himself due to his inability to not hold his laughter at bay. The young elf had struggled to make it through his telling of the dwarves attempts to join the bonfires that night without giving himself over to chuckles. Thranduil had to admit, it was quite a humorous situation to deal with; for so long the dwarves had waged wars of words with the elves, spreading false lies about them and Thranduil had merely sat back and watched what was to occur. He had never personally made a statement against the dwarves, despite his ever increasing anger towards the falling reputation of his realm and people, for if he had said something against the dwarves he would have to say something against all other races on Arda. It was difficult for outsiders to understand the complexities of society in Mirkwood. They were a mixture of Sindar, Silvan, and yes, a few Noldor. Assumptions were made about their people because they were largely closed off from the other elven realms. Thranduil knew his subjects were more comfortable with being isolated from the rest of Arda; there were many families who still bore the scars of their immense losses at the end of the Second Age. The Noldor had lost their High King; the Sindar and Silvan of his home had lost most of their warriors. The common subjects of Mirkwood were protected from the outside realms for that very reason; Thranduil had no desire to ever see so many of his people so desolate again.

If the only price he had to pay now was in jewels, ale, and a wanting reputation, Thranduil would gladly pay it as long as his people remained content.

Tirnion stood beside Thranduil, "I do not believe this is right."

"You may go to the other room while we discuss this matter." Thranduil said.

Tirnion's lips visibly twitched, "No, I would rather be a very proper captain and stay here."

Legolas, newly returned, merely snorted.

"I am certain you mean that sincerely." Thranduil said as he bid Golvien to bring forth the most recent intruder.

The dwarf was dirty, clearly tired, and greatly annoyed. There was a look of defiance in his eyes even Thranduil good grudgingly respect. He tried not to wrinkle his nose at the smell of the dwarf, grateful the smell of the forest masked most of his scent.

"What is your name?"

The dwarf remained silent.

"Your name." Thranduil repeated.

The dwarf remained quiet.

Thranduil sat slightly forward, his voice lowering to a mesmerizing whisper, "I will only ask you one more time. What is your name?"

The dwarf blinked slowly but answered, "Thorin Oakenshield."

Thranduil sat back on his throne and quickly went through the names of dwarves he had dealt with in the past. Oakenshield had not been one of them, nor had there been a Thorin in recent memory.

Thranduil continued to question the dwarf receiving little information by way of his replies. The dwarf was clearly hiding something; if only the stupid fool knew Mithrandir had seen fit to inform Thranduil about their task.

Honestly, dwarves.

Tiring of the waste of time this questioning was turning out to be, Thranduil ordered the dwarf to the dungeons. The dwarf at least deserved a peaceful rest in a safe place. Tirnion made sure to inform Golvien that the dwarf would receive plenty of food and drink.

"Tirnion, go find the rest." Thranduil said.

"Yes, my King." Tirnion answered, Legolas following close behind.

Thranduil briefly pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance; twelve more dwarves and one hobbit yet to be seen. Mithrandir would truly owe him a favor for this.

* * *

"Here, dwarfy, dwarfy, dwarfy." Claurion whispered from the tree tops.

Tirnion smacked him on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Claurion asked.

"Keep your voice down." Tirnion ordered.

"I changed your diapers you know." Claurion hissed.

"You did not." Tirion said.

"I taught you how to ride though." Claurion argued.

Tirnion took his eyes off the ground to stare at his brother-in-law, "Thranduil taught me how to…will you be quiet!"

"Now who is shouting?" Claurion asked.

Claurion quickly quieted at the caustic look he received in return.

Below them Legolas and Galuverior were laughing at their argument.

"Here they come." Legolas whispered.

Tirnion nodded and motioned for the group to drop down from the branches. All around the clearing the elves silently and swiftly dropped to the forest floor and formed a circle around their oblivious prey.

Tirnion handed over command of the prisoners to Galuverior, worried that he only found the remaining dwarves and not the hobbit in the numbers. The wind whispered to him then and told him the hobbit was hiding in the shadows of one of the beeches. Tirnion could not see the hobbit, but he could sense the different life force. Confused, he nodded to Galuverior before taking off on a swift run back to the palace. There were many things to tell Thranduil.

* * *

Thranduil put his mid-day meal to the side as he again took up the pile of correspondence in front of him. Another feast was scheduled merely because he was afraid what he would do to all those ungrateful dwarves if he was give time to let his mind idle. No one had seen fit to inform Tangwen yet, as she would be the one to handle any diplomatic blunder, where exactly their trespassing guests were being stored.

Thranduil was not surprised when she came storming into his study unannounced and uninvited.

"Why do we have a dwarf in a dungeon?" Tangwen asked.

"We have dwarves in dungeons." Thranduil corrected her.

"Thranduil.." Tangwen's tone was only slightly threatening.

"They were disturbing the peace." Thranduil answered, truthfully, for they had been.

Tangwen sat down in front of him and pulled the letters away. "They were lost and hungry."

"Now they are found and fed." Thranduil answered as he pulled the letters back.

"You know this is only going to make relations worse." Tangwen said, banging a fist on the table to enhance her point.

Thranduil brushed some invisible dust off his jewel-encrusted shirt collar, "With all the rumors they have spread about me and our people, I think I'd like to do something that deserves such a reputation."

"We _were_ a barrel short in their payment from the last mining expedition." Tangwen saw fit to remind him. Again.

"Because it was a bad barrel." Thranduil said again, as he had for years. "I sent another in replacement with the messengers they provided. It is hardly my fault their messengers decided to take it for their own. Then those dwarves attempted a raid on our coffers and was angered when we fought them back. Furthermore, the nerve of them to claim they build this palace. It was here long before they were and have you heard the things they say about us? That we do no labor of any kind. Clearly they never noticed all our cattle was eating by spiders and our grounds yield less and less as the darkness becomes stronger. Really, they can be such a horribly judgmental bunch."

Tangwen sat back, arms crossed over her chest. "I never knew you were so bothered by it all."

"I have had much time to build up the resentment." Thranduil informed her.

"We do have a large amount of jewels and are forever in the quest of more." Tangwen said.

"How else do you suggest we pay off our trading partners when we have little to trade?" Thranduil asked her, golden brow raised.

"Very true." Tangwen conceded.

"They also accused me of keeping the spiders as pets." Thranduil told her.

Tangwen was speechless for a moment; a hand covered her mouth. "You did not order the dwarves to be killed?"

"No use in killing a weary and sick dwarf." Thranduil informed her.

"The hobbit?" Tangwen asked.

Thranduil pushed back his chair and stood up, "Your son said a tree told him a hobbit like creature was in the wood and while Tirnion could sense and smell a different being, he could not see him."

"Mithrandir may have fashioned something for him." Tangwen said.

"That is what I am personally led to believe." Thranduil argued. "Now, if you will excuse me I must lead a hunting party so we have something to eat at the next feast.

"Another?" Tangwen asked.

"The woods are not safe now; I must entertain my people somehow." Thranduil said as he began to leave the room.

Tangwen said nothing just packed up his letters and took hold of his dish. For a moment they were almost back in her cottage during the Second Age. It was a good memory and gave him a warm feeling which he would need to have a successful hunt.

* * *

Thranduil took off his hunting garb and graced the chamber maid with a thankful smile as she handed him a bowl of water and a towel to refresh himself. He missed the days when Laeriel would greet him so but he did not regret knowing her, and Tholinnas and Merileth were safe. The dwarves had been with them for nearly two weeks now and still they said nothing of their intent. Thranduil quickly changed and headed outside into the hall. Tirnion was waiting for him as they began to walk the halls.

"Is the hobbit still wandering around our halls?" Thranduil asked Tirnion.

"Indeed. Balanauth has tried to leave food out for him but he never quite seems to understand it is meant for his consumption." Tirnion said.

"He is a hobbit, Tirnion, not a stray animal." Thranduil said.

"That could be debated. I have seen his footprints in the dust of the dungeons." Tirnion shuddered, "horribly scary."

"Large shoes?" Thranduil asked.

"Large feet. He has no shoes." Tirnion said.

Thranduil paused for a moment and also shuddered. "That is…I do not wish to ponder that."

"None of us do." Tirnion said as he held open the door to the feast hall. The room fell silent as the King walked in and took his seat.

"Continue." Thranduil ordered to his people, smiling as the room filled with singing and laughter again.

"Where is Galion?" Thranduil asked Legolas.

Legolas shrugged, "He was to take in the recent arrival of wine but I have not yet seen him tonight."

Concerned Thranduil asked one of dungeon guards to find him before Thranduil resumed his drinking.

* * *

Tirnion took a deep breath before walking into Thranduil's chambers. The news he had to deliver would not be a good way to start the day. Thranduil bid him to enter, though he was already in a morning conference with Tangwen and one of the many councilors. As the elf left, Thranduil bid Tirnion to speak.

Tirnion worried a loose stitch on his clothing,

"As you know, my lord, Galion had been found last night but the captain of the dungeon guards was found sleeping this morning."

"Drunk?" Tangwen asked.

"Indeed." Tirnion nodded.

Thranduil considered this for a moment before asking, "My personal wine?"

"Yes." Tirnion answered.

Thranduil turned to Tangwen, "Would it be wrong if I placed _him_ within the dungeon."

Tirnion was surprised his mother honestly seemed to consider the option.

"I certainly would not disagree with you," Tangwen said, "but as the council elected him, they may."

Thranduil placed a hand to his brow. "Dwarves?" He asked.

"Gone." Tirnion said.

"Hobbit?" Thranduil asked, his jaw clenched.

"Gone." Tirnion answered again. The presence of the hobbit was no longer there.

"Theories?" Thranduil asked.

Tirnion studied the floor not wishing to see the fury that would surely appear in Thranduil's face. "Some of the guards said the barrels Galion had them send out to Lake-town felt full."

"Galion?" Thranduil asked.

"Hiding." Tirnion said.

Thranduil turned back to Tangwen, "Really, may I please kill that dungeon guard?"

"I may do it for you." Tangwen said. "As it is, I do believe someone so unfit for duty should be sent West."

"And Galion?" Tangwen asked.

Tirnion swallowed at the look on his mother's face. That was the same look she had when it was time to initiative Claurion into the family.

"I suggest you put the fright of the Woodland King into him. Perhaps he will learn not to partake of potent brew while on duty again." Tangwen said.

"A very good plan." Thranduil said. "Tirnion, I do not wish to scare you, so please leave the room. And I thank you for having the bravery to tell me."

Tirnion nodded at both his king and his mother before quickly fleeing the room.

* * *

Tirnion audibly whimpered as he studied the letter in front of him.

He looked at Galuverior, "I have to tell the King this?"

Galuverior clasped his shoulder, "You are the captain."

Tirnion whispered a prayer before he left his office and marched to the King's study.

Legolas caught his arm before he could enter. "You know where they are?" he asked.

Tirnion nodded, "You might want to cover your ears. I am certain your father will bellow."

Tirnion opened the heavy doors of the study. All the councilors and assistants grew quiet as he entered.

Thranduil easily discerned the situation, "Where are they?"

"There in Lake-town. You are also the horrid ruler who 'wrongfully waylaid' and 'imprisoned without just cause' the poor dwarves. The hobbit is also with them." Tirnion said quickly.

"Legolas." Thranduil called to his son.

"Yes, father?" Legolas asked from beside Tirnion.

"Please leave the room as your mother will greatly harm me if you hear all the words I am about to speak." Thranduil said.

"Of course, father." Legolas said before hurrying out of the room.

It was actually quite difficult to make Thranduil truly angry; a rare but legendary occurrence to be sure. Tirnion and the other councilors also quickly left the study.

Tirnion and Legolas closed the door behind them and held it shut. There was the sound of books flying and a few bottles smashing. Tirnion was sure he heard a table upended amid the many curses.

Both Legolas and Tirnion nearly fell back as the door to study was wrenched open. Thranduil caught them both before putting them upright.

"Legolas, how would you like to lead a force of river bank spies?" Thranduil asked.

Tirnion smiled, "You know well where to stay having done a patrol there before."

Legolas nodded, eager for the chance to lead his own team.

"You, Tirion, must lead a patrol near the Lonely Mountain." Thranduil said.

Tirnion blanched, "Those dwarves cannot really…….."

"If I know dwarves they do plan on going after that dragon's hoard." Thranduil said. "After all these years, I must say..I know well their intentions. It clearly explains why they would not tell us of their plans."

"I suppose you are going to follow us in the end?" Legolas asked.

"As soon as Mithrandir contacts me and your brother returns." Thranduil nodded, "Yes. Someone must stay on the throne in my absence. Dwarves. Honestly? What's next? An ent?"  
Thranduil gestured to one of his assistants, "Please let out the word we are currently in need of a master craftsman, whether elf or man."

The assistant nodded before running off.

Thranduil looked at both Legolas and Tirnion, "Well?" he asked.

Tirnion and Legolas both ran down the halls calling for guards and supplies.

* * *

A/N 1: I always felt _The Hobbit_ was a little bias against Thranduil and Mirkwood so, you know, this is my sort of attempt to…er…rectify it. I mean, Bilbo told the story, really, and he was told of Thranduil by the dwarves, a truly bias source ;) Also the lines about Thranduil mistreating the dwarves and imprisoning them without just cause comes from the chapter "A Warm Welcome" in _The Hobbit_

A/N 2: Thanks

Renna, as always, thank you! The change of scenery was needed for me too! It helps the writer as much as the reader. There will be more of Morwen's family history sprinkled throughout the series. Once I get the series of Second Age one-shots out, there will be a lot of the family, but for now the best place to know about Morwen's family before even Morwen knows is in "Sleeping with Ghosts."


	11. 10 When It Has To

**Disclaimer: See previous chapters**

**A Journey Begins:**

**_Chapter Ten:…..When It Has To _**

_Under branches _

I remember the journeys

when I rose to foreign

suns and let the morning

seal my secrets.

Leave me alone.

A light has always

led me home.

A voice is always calling.

-Adonis, _In the Forest_

_**TA 2941, The Havens**_

Elrohir watched Estel run back and forth on the shore, looking to all the world as an elven child freed from his parents' hold. Cirdan was delighted to see the boy, having himself encountered many of Estel's line over the years.

"He almost reminds me of a young Elrond." Cirdan had said, "Wisdom already on his brow."

Elrohir shook his head, "Yet there are still so many things he does not know, Cirdan. He asked me what a hermit crab was the other day. How does a ten-year-old boy not know what a hermit crab is?"

Cirdan tapped his shoulder and said, "You have never taken him to the coast, Elrohir."

Elrohir angrily turned around, "That is my point. We are just to send him out into the Wild when he is of age? He will not survive! We teach him so many things but he has never seen the half of them."

Cirdan kept his voice calm and soothing, "Then you must raise him as a true child of the Dunedain. You must take him on journeys. He will be eleven soon and twelve not so far after…"

"Time for his first patrol." Elrohir shook his head. "We just took him camping in the woods for the first time."

"You are raising him as an elf, Elrohir, and that is all you know." Cirdan stated, his gaze to the young boy splashing in the sea, "Gilraen does not seem so upset."

"It keeps him her little boy longer if we raise him as an elf." Elrohir said, toe digging into the sand.

Cirdan returned his gaze to Elrohir and said, "You do not believe we have such time."

"You know we do not have such time." Elrohir stated.

Cirdan nodded as he stared out over the sea. "I have dwelled on Arda years unnumbered, Elrohir. I have seen great men made weak and weak men given power; I have watched elven king's fall. I have seen elf kill elf. I have said farewell to my wife and many of my children. I have watched small elflings become the most respected of the wise." Cirdan settled himself on a sand dune and turned his weather-beaten face to the sun. "Elrohir, the spirit which burns within that child is unique. He could be one of the greatest even I have seen or he could be the largest failure Arda has even brought forth. He has been an elfling, Elrohir, it is time for him to become a young man."

Elrohir bowed his head as he took in Cirdan's words. "He is so young." Elrohir whispered.

"He will always be 'so young,' Elrohir." Cirdan said, eyes showing more compassion than his words.

Elrohir swallowed as he sat down beside Cirdan, "Father has not said…"

Cirdan interrupted him, "Your father's childhood was quite brief and was very dangerous and unstable. He would never deny a youth their chance at innocence."

"Sometimes I forget who my father really is." Elrohir whispered. "I forget how important our family has been, how significant they are."

"Yet people still sneer about your bloodline when it was your bloodline which possibly saved us all from killing each other in greed, fear, and mistrust." Cirdan laughed, "It is a testament to your father's wisdom that you see him as a father and not a creature of legend; the elfling found by Maglor all those Ages ago is not the same elf who now rules Imladris. Your father has grown and changed over the years. Wisdom was forced upon him, as was duty, but he took even more of it on. Yet your father can still laugh, he can still find joy and even though nothing ties him to Arda, he will not leave until he feels his children are ready." The ancient shipwright traced an ancient pattern in the sand, "I do not think he would leave anyway. He loves his realm far too much."

"He will not be pleased when I recommend the drastic change in Estel's education." Elrohir said.

"He will not be pleased at first but your father will realize what needs to be done." Cirdan stood up and brushed sand from his tunic and pants. "Enough talk of such things; we have a young boy playing in the waters, I suggest we join him."

"It is nearly winter, Cirdan, if he goes in any deeper he will become ill." Elrohir said.

"My waters are also warm, Elrohir." Cirdan assured him as the elves walked over to the shore.

"That is impossible." Elrohir stated with all the sure-knowledge of the young.

"Is it?" Cirdan asked as he threw a handful of water at Elrohir.

Elrohir had tensed his body in preparation for the shot of cool water but was pleasantly surprised at the warm mist which landed on his body.

"Faithful servants are generously rewarded." Cirdan stated. "I love the water; it has always been my first love. I could never live far from it, my own soul feels entwined with the tide. I will take the squalls and the storms as long as I can have the sea and the breeze."

"The good with the bad." Elrohir said.

"The natural way of things." Cirdan remarked, pushing Elrohir into the water much to the delight of the shipwright and Estel who know stood at his side.

Elrohir sat in the wet sand and let the tide run over him as he laughed deeply until his sides ached and tears ran down his face.

* * *

**_Imladris, TA 2941_**

Elladan flipped through the many piles of parchment and paperwork on his desk in his little used study. Elrohir was more often found here than Elladan who much more preferred the trees.

"Father does all of this each morning?" Elladan asked.

"That is a quarter of what your father does each morn," Erestor said, "but I had no desire to terrify you with the complete amount of morning work. When your brother is here to share duties with you I divide the amount between the two of you."

"Erestor, I have never respected your position more than in this moment." Elladan said again, one of the many times he had said such things in these past few months.

"Thank you, Elladan." Erestor stated, quite tired of explaining his work to Elladan each morning for the past few months.

Elladan scanned over some the sheets and his eyes squinted in inquiry. "Is the syrup trade really that important?" Elladan asked.

"Elladan must we go through this every morning?" Erestor asked.

"My father has not returned yet and so yes, this is how we must do things." Elladan stated while he took up his quill.

"Elladan, despite your belief to the contrary, I am not doing this to punish you." Erestor said, mindful of the grim expression on Elladan's face.

"Say that to all my paper cuts." Elladan muttered, glancing down at the small bandages covering his hands.

Erestor silently shook his head as he left Elladan to his task, not able to take another morning of this.

Rian stopped him at the doorway, "You are leaving him alone?"

"You are a councilor, Rian," Erestor said while he gestured to Elladan, "council."

Rian crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow, "I would like for you to name the last time you put me as an active councilor."

"Now." Erestor said as he turned to leave.

Rian quickly grabbed his arm, "Your daughter would be a better assistant to Elladan, would she not? She has much more experience in these matters than I do."

"Rian," Erestor said with dark amusement, "you wish to purposefully leave my daughter, who fields more correspondence in an hour than Elladan is set to do all day, alone in a room with your…what are you two these days?"

"We are what we are meant to be." Rian said with a cool tone.

Erestor smiled, "Elladan has not extended anything beyond an official courting invitation yet?"

"How long did it take you to marry your wife, again?" Rian asked.

Erestor took one of the packs of letters in his arms and handed it to Rian, "Oh, look at that, I have just found more work for you."

Rian grabbed the pack of letters and hissed, "This is cruel."

Erestor said, "_This_ is duty and this is your duty. Now, run along and answer politely the pointless inquiries from the various peoples who waste yards of parchment in writing to us about their lost cows and demonic squirrels."

"You would never be so condescending to Morwen." Rian said.

"Rian, Morwen has earned the right to insult me by the amount of work she has done for this realm." Erestor said, tone grim. "You, my dear, have been quite lax in your duties for some time which has added considerably to my own work load and kept me from seeing that wife you so clearly know took me so long to marry." Erestor patted the top of Rian's head, ignoring her attempt at a glare, "Go help Elladan before he tries to make a daring escape and breaks his leg again; three breaks in less than a year cannot be good."

"There is a reason your are known for your decidedly curt manner." Rian said.

"Ah, Rian, but I am respected." Erestor said as he left Rian to her own thoughts.

As Rian walked into the room Elladan held out his hand; four new paper cuts had emerged in the past five minutes.

* * *

**_The Lonely Mountain_**

Tirnion rested against the tree as he pressed a wet cloth to his eyes. It was a near wasteland up here in the rocks of the Lonely Mountain. Animals had fled long ago, knowing the way of the mountain meant the way to a dragon's dinner plate. Tirnion was an elf, he was an elf of Mirkwood, and with that came a certain perspective on dwarves but putting aside any cultural prejudices, Tirnion believed even the most objective of beings would state the dwarves were idiots for going into the mountain.

"What type of being willingly walks into a dragon's lair?" Galuverior asked.

"A greedy one." Claurion said. "Sure, Mithrandir states they are trying to reclaim their title of old, but this is clearly nothing but a treasure hunt. They could go to Moria if they so desired to revel in their ancient traditions."

"I believe even they would choose a dragon over a balrog." Golvien hissed as she threw a pack at Claurion. "Honestly, you have no sense."

"Oh, dear archer, why are you not on the river banks?" Claurion asked as he flicked Golvien's quiver.

Golvien smiled at him, "Oh, dear captain's sister-husband, why are you not cowering in a room in Mirkwood?"

"Tirnion, do you ever wonder which Vala you've angered so much to be saddled with such troops?" Galuverior inquired as he passed a skin of water to the elf.

"Often." Tirnion muttered. "Though I could be like that poor hobbit, in between a group of dwarves and a dragon."

"Hardly an admirable position." Galuverior agreed as he sat down. "It is nearly winter."

"Another year upon us." Tirnion said. "Has the time truly gone so quickly?"

"A new year soon upon us;" Galuverior restated. "I wonder what it will bring."

"I wonder if we will see it." Claurion said. "It is only becoming more dangerous."

"It is our duty while we play protectors of the realm." Tirnion said. "We should start our march closer to the gates." He stood up and began to gather his items.

"I would like it noted for the historical record, I think this is a bad idea." Claurion said while he rolled up the ropes.

"Your words have been noted; let us pray we do not all burn." Galuverior stated helping one of the newer recruits put away their bed roll.

"Seidron has finally re-gained all movement in his limbs." Golvien said as she threw her pack onto her back.

"That is hardly encouraging." Galuverior replied.

Tirnion moved ahead of the group with a smile on his face. The party was currently being led by one of Berenon's trainees. His name escaped Tirnion, but the elf seemed capable enough. It was a moment later that Tirnion felt a chill go through him. The wind seemed to scream and the earth groaned. He followed the path of dead leaves swirling in the wind and his eyes widened as he saw a faint red and orange glow. Tirnion could smell the fire and quickly pulled the lead elf back before he could get burnt.

"The ignorant fools have gone and awoken the dragon!" Tirnion roared, all good humor leaving him.

"Hide!" Galuverior ordered.

The elves went diving for what little cover they could find; rocks, the few trees with leaves, the mountain sides. Cloaks were pulled tightly and weapons held at the ready. The group waited in tense silence until the smell of fire dissipated and the roar of the dragon faded. Down the path a weary pony ran, stumbling over its own hooves as it fled.

"At least a pony has managed to escape." Claurion whispered from Tirnion's side.

"Three, barely." Golvien said as she dropped down from a nearby tree.

"Three of what, fourteen?" Tirnion asked as he walked over to the wounded and frightened animals.

"Better singed tale than Smaug snack." Claurion said as he pressed hands on the nearest pony. The elf gestured to one of the younger recruits, "You there, head back to Lake-town and contact Legolas' party. Let them know the dwarves have awoken the dragon."

"Captain?" The elf asked Tirnion.

"Your heard your superior officer, go!" Tirnion barked out as he threw open the healing packs in attempt to heal what damage they could.

Claurion shook his head, "Elflings these days."

"Don't even know an order from a request." Galuverior grumbled. "The dragon is breathing fire out of the mountain and he waits for confirmation after his superior tells him to go?"

"We must have a word with Berenon about the training of his swordsmen." Golvien agreed. "This is ridiculous."

"Galuverior," Tirnion said, "go with him; take the others with you."

"Captain?" Galuverior asked.

"Lake-town will need all the aid we can offer and these ponies need off the mountain; Smaug knows their scent and will sure to find them." Tirnion said.

"Smaug has not yet left his lair." Galuverior noted.

"He may well soon." Tirnion said. "He has already flown around the mountain in search of a camp."

Galuverior nodded, "Then I will gather our troops and head down to Legolas' party."

"Thank you, Galuverior." Tirnion said as he stepped away from one of the ponies. He gave the animal's snot a quick pat before pushing it in Galuverior's direction.

"I am staying." Golvien said.

Tirnion sighed, "Golvien…"

"Perhaps you did not hear me." Golvien stated as she held Tirnion's face between her hands, '"I. Am. Staying."

"Apparently Golvien is staying." Claurion remarked.

"Apparently she is." Tirnion said. "I could charge you with in subornation." Tirnion told Golvien.

Golvien shrugged as she stepped away, "You would lose your most trusted archer."

"Right, Golvien is staying." Tirnion said. "Galuverior, you have command over the rest of the troops, please be gentle with those ponies."

"Yes, Captain." Galuverior said. "Live to see another Age, will you? I do not wish to face your mother's wrath."

Claurion smirked, "Rumor has it Tirnion's mother is the least you'll have to worry about. I heard Erestor's youngest daughter is.."

"Claurion!" Most of the elves exclaimed, while others began to laugh.

It was a bittersweet moment, this laughter amid the fear. Tirnion wished the other's elves well as they began the trek down the mountain, singing the songs of old, some for the first time since the Second Age.

* * *

Days had passed and the three elves still stayed at their posts, nervously waiting for what would happen next. Claurion was busy poking a small fire to roast what little meat they had while Golvien played a soft song on her flute. Tirnion sat between the two, needle and thread in hand as he tried to repair their cloaks. 

Golvien's playing suddenly stopped as she cocked her head to the side. "What was that sound?" The she-elf asked.

"Only a crow." Claurion insisted, poking the flames again.

"If a crow had scales and breathed fire." Golvien stated as she gestured to the mountain.

Tirnion wrinkled his brow as he stared at the side the mountain which appeared to be shaking. Tirnion quickly snapped off the thread and stuffed the cloaks into his pack while he gestured for Claurion and Golvien to prepare themselves. Claurion doused the flames and Golvien pocketed her flute and grabbed out her bow, throwing her quiver over her shoulder.

Tirnion turned to Claurion as he felt a rumbling in the ground; the elves only had enough time to dive for shelter as Smaug screeched and raged, breaking rocks off the mountain itself as he flew into the rage and burst open the stone door. Shelter and safety were much more their priority than taking down a dragon. There was no glory in being burnt to death. Three elves could not take down a dragon; especially on a dragon's own land. As Smaug began to circle the other side of the mountain, Tirnion gestured for the elves to come out of hiding.

Golvien pulled back her hair, drenched with mud. "This does not bode well for us."

Claurion coughed, "That is one way of putting it; I would simply say we are neck deep in sh.."

"Claurion, really." Tirnion scolded. "Well, as the dragon has now left the premises I suggest we send messages to Lake-town and the halls of the King to inform him of our progress. We must stay here to keep watch on the mountain pass."

"We must?" Claurion asked.

"There are still dwarves, a hobbit, and a large treasure in that mountain." Tirnion said. "Whose wrath do you fear more, Thranduil's or the Smaug's."

"I'll take the dragon." Claurion muttered.

"Am I the only one able to see the sizeable hole that dragon just put in the side of the mountain?" Golvien asked.

"Dragon!" Claurion exclaimed as the elves dove for their shelter's again.

Smaug landed for a moment and each elf stopped breathing and silently begged the trees to cover their scent. Smaug did not circle this time, Tirnion could see the dragon readying itself to fly again. Tirnion braced himself against the roots of the trees and the rocks at the gust of wind from Smaug's take-off. He sent a swift prayer to the people who dwelt below the mountain; Smaug's rage would not be easily satisfied.

Tirnion shouted his orders over the wailing wind, "We must survive our stay here first. Smaug will return once he is done making the innocent people below pay for the activity within the Lonely Mountain."

"Any brilliant suggestions, captain?" Claurion yelled over the screaming winds.

"Take to the trees and run!" Tirnion ordered.

"Yes, I agree, now would be a good time to retreat." Claurion said.

"Really? How could you ever possibly imagine that?" Tirnion asked.

"Now, now, Tirnion. Your mother would tell you that while in the presence of an enraged dragon one should not be sarcastic." Claurion said.

"My mother would also tell me I would be more than justified if I sent a pesky warrior over a cliff." Tirnion muttered.

Claurion shook his head, "Such words for your family. Tsk tsk. Perhaps you need to take another decade long sojourn to Imladris."

"Claurion, please." Tirnion yelled.

Claurion smiled, "I only wonder if you would do much better there than…"

"Will you both quiet yourselves before you send us all to the Halls of Mandos?" Golvien spat. "I know not where you two would like to be at the end of this year, but I would like to be back in Mirkwood."

Claurion laughed, "We all know where Tirnion wants to be.."

"Claurion, so help me, I will throw you to that dragon myself." Tirnion spat.

"So help you both or I will throw you both there and laugh over your burnt corpses." Golvien shouted as she climbed up the trees and began her run.

"I think we've upset her." Claurion said as he also climbed up the branches.

Tirnion gave one last glance to the Lonely Mountain before following in their path. Something told him this was far from over.

* * *

**_Mirkwood_**

Thranduil had spent the past few days giving thanks to all the trees and winds and birds who had seen fit to deliver him the news of Smaug's flight and passing. Even a few moths had stopped to tell the tale. The oaks he was most grateful to, for they had brought him the news of Golvien, Claurion and Tirnion's well-being as they quickly made their way to Lake-town by passing through the trees.

"They say the dragon devastated Lake-town." Tangwen whispered, standing beside the Woodland king.

"Dragons know nothing but devastating destruction." Thranduil humorlessly laughed, "They are not known for their small-scale damage."

"What do you wish for us to do next?" Tangwen asked.

"We will go to Lake-town." Thranduil said, leaning against his balcony.

"Thranduil?" Tangwen asked.

"What little help we can offer, we must." The Elvenking smirked, "Of course, we must also go to the mountain itself."

"You told the council we were headed straight to the mountain as the dwarves must surely be dead." Tangwen reminded him of the day's earlier meeting.

"Do your doubt your son's skill so much?" Thranduil asked while he reached a hand up to his head and took off his crown.

Tangwen sighed as she removed his robes of state, "Why must you live-up to your bad reputation?"

"Fear and respect are two very powerful things, Tangwen." Thranduil answered her. "Fear tends to come easier in these times. I want to know the dragon is dead and I want to meet the person who brought it down. I'm sure Seidron would like a piece of its hide for mere revenge."

"His wife probably wants more of that dragon's hide than Seidron does." Tangwen said. "I know we've compensated the family for the lost wages but they still live on the outskirts of our land and are in constant need of protection."

Thranduil began to change into his riding clothes as he said, "I have tried to move them into the palace but his wife is very stubborn and refuses to leave."

"You could order them to move." Tangwen offered.

"I would not tempt the wrath of that woman." Thranduil answered, typing up his outer jerkin.

Thranduil turned to the door as a knock resounded through his study. "Enter." He ordered.

A page stood before him, "Balanauth is here to speak with you, my liege."

"Send him in." Thranduil stated, ignoring Tangwen's confused look.

Balanauth strode into the room, already quite comfortable in his new surroundings. Thranduil was happy to note that the greens and browns of Mirkwood suited his color, though the uniform was a bit tighter on his broader frame. The Noldor were not quite as slim as the wood elves, which may have been their reason for preferring to dwell on land than in the trees where one must be quite light-footed and swift.

"Yes?" Thranduil asked as Balanauth waited for him to speak.

"King Thranduil, your escort is ready along with the supplies you requested." Balanauth said. "If I may speak freely?" Balanauth asked.

"Of course." Thranduil said, holding up a hand to stop the indignant rant Tangwen was so clearly wanting to give.

"King Thranduil, the amount of supplies we are traveling with are certainly not enough to heal all of those injured." Balanauth said.

Thranduil nodded, "Balanauth, the supplies are, as you noted, only initial. I wish to see what the people of Lake-town and the surrounding areas have before I send off for more aid. What we bring is more a peace-offering to gain their permission and the access to the paths leading up to the mountain. A small group of well-trained warriors can easily go up to the mountain with no one the wiser. A battalion of elves however, are not so invisible." Thranduil gestured to the door, "Please make ready my horse, I will soon join you."

Balanauth nodded before turning to leave.

Thranduil waited for the door to close before saying, "Go ahead, Tangwen."

"Why do you even bother to waste my time and your breath in consulting with me if you are going to do what you so clearly desire anyway?" Tangwen asked. "Why do you even need me as a councilor?"

"Because I adore the lovely shade of red you turn when I anger you." Thranduil placed a hand on her shoulder, "If I gave you more time to think over this, you would insist on coming in full warrior regalia, if only to defend your son. I would not have the heart to turn you away, Tangwen, and I need you here. Berenon will face a very difficult situation and he will need your guidance."

"You will need at least one councilor with you to hold your tongue for you." Tangwen insisted.

"Arodeth is coming with me; she desired to tell you at the last moment. I did not want her to come." Thranduil said.

Tangwen let out a shuddering breath, "You will bring my daughter back safely, Thranduil. I know my son is at risk and that you cannot help as his position aids him, but you will protect my daughter as if she was one of your own."

"She is like one of my own." Thranduil promised. "I will watch over her, and Tirnion, and I will order Legolas to do so as well." Thranduil embraced Tangwen. "Keep my home safe, old friend. And for Eru's sake, keep those horrible nobles away from my son."

"I will fend them off with a sword." Tangwen promised. "Now go, you should not waste any time in these situations."

"I would not dream of it." Thranduil insisted, leaving Tangwen in the room as he hurried down the hall to give his farewells to Berenon. Thranduil could not help the smile which spread across his face. It had been many years since he had rode out of the wood. It would be good to see another land again, even in such dark times.

* * *

Elrond closed his eyes for a brief moment as the pathway to his river valley revealed itself. He muttered thanks to the nature surrounding him, as he often did. It was the graciousness of their spirit which first led him to this sanctuary in the midst of all the fighting. Imladris was his true home from then on. From the rock and the river, the deep cut of the valley and the acres of trees, he had made his home. A place of peace for anyone of good heart and mind that found themselves in as desperate need of a safe haven as he once was. 

Many things had changed since the foundations of Imladris were begun. Cirdan was still his mentor, as he always had been, the elf his father and grandfather adored. Yet the elves who were closest to him in the Second Age were now gone, replaced by two upstarts who held no true rank in Lindon that once was. Erestor, descended from a House of Gondolin, whose father had escaped the city in pursuit of his own true love. Glorfindel, an elf unlike any other, who quietly arrived on a boat with harsh words for the High-King. Erestor, a librarian and scribe with a smart mouth and Glorfindel, an elf who claimed to be the Glorfindel of legend though only Cirdan could confirm it was truly Glorfindel. Even so early in the Second Age, only a handful of survivors of Gondolin still dwelt on Arda. Their descendants, yes, but the loss of their city, their queen, their beloved lords, had sent many fleeing back to Aman at their first chance.

Erestor became his advisor; Glorfindel became everything Erestor was not. In truth, Glorfindel was their ambassador. Few disliked the elf and those who did kept it to themselves, with the notable exception of two or three elves. What the elf lacked in politics he made up in charm.

Elrond's eyes traveled over the trees, evergreen and much different from the woods he traveled from. He had left many of those close to his heart in Lothlorien, but he could not dwell there any longer. Imladris was his home; a home he helped build. He knew others could handle the realm and despite all comments to the contrary, Elladan was more than capable. Many thought him a fool but Elrond knew well how much more there was to his eldest son, all his children really. There was a darkness in Elladan and in Elrohir, a mark left from the shock of Celebrian's lost. While Elrohir continued to pull into himself, Elladan became even more determined to make others smile.

As he neared the gates, his escort trailing behind him, Elrond gestured for his guard to ride ahead. Elrond dismounted and led his horse to the stables. He stood for a moment to breathe in the air and the sound of the rushing water. He kept his eyes closed even as he sensed an elf drawing near. He stood still as a grown elven body hurled itself into his back.

"I am delighted to see you again as well, Elladan." Elrond murmured into his son's hair.

"Father…how…so much paperwork…my hands, father, my hands." Elladan said as he held out both palms.

Elrond looked at his son's hands. Normally they would be full of calluses from the bow and the sword and scratches from the trees. Now both hands were decorated with a myriad of paper cuts. Elrond took his son's hands in his own and let a small bit of his healing power take away the sting for the moment.

"Why did you not ask one of the healers to find something to treat all these small cuts." Elrond asked.

"I only ever ask you, Glorfindel, or Elrohir." Elladan said.

"Elladan, you do know the other healers, do you not?" Elrond asked.

Elladan looked to the side, "Father, you must admit my time spent in the healing halls has been little at best. There are always apprentices coming and going; there are elves, there are humans, honestly I cannot keep track of them all."

"How did you have your cast removed then?" Elrond asked, gesturing to his son's finally free leg.

"Oh," Elladan said as he glanced down, "Thandrog did that. Said it was similar to taking one off a dog."

Elrond pinched his brow for only a moment, hardly surprised at his eldest son's actions. "Elladan, you are certainly unique."

"If I was on patrol and I had to have my cast removed by a fellow soldier and no trained healers were around, who would be the best choice to remove my cast?" Elladan asked.

"Excluding Glorfindel, Erestor, Morwen, all the march-wardens of Lothlorien, mariners of the Havens, human.." Elrond began to list.

"Father." Elladan flatly stated.

Elrond smiled, "I suppose Thandrog would be a logical choice."

"Perfectly logical." Elladan said.

Elrond smiled as he placed an arm around his son's shoulders, "Imladris is still standing, so I take it your reign over her went well."

"I had lots of help." Elladan said. "Erestor is very efficient, almost unhealthy so. When is the last time he was without duties?"

"I believe it was around Eluialeth's birth. Erestor does not know what to do with himself if a quill is not in his hand. Order and efficiency please him." Elrond walked up the steps and passed through the first archway, "Though perhaps it is time for him to leave us for a little while. I must confess, I feel guilty for being remiss in my own duties for so long."

"You enjoy all that correspondence?" Elladan asked.

"Letters fascinate me; the words a person uses, the style they write in, the language, how they write. So much can be gleaned about a person when you study their letters. Granted, it is only a small part of them, but a valuable part." Elrond said.

"The only thing I sense is a distinct focus on pointless commodities such as syrup." Elladan muttered.

"Ah, but there it is. A commodity. A luxury good. The use of which and the trade of which, signals a prospering city which can either afford to purchase the syrup or afford to produce it." Elrond informed his son while he waved greetings to all those stopping by to see him.

Elladan shook his head, "Nothing really is so simple."

"Did you honestly believe Morwen spent all her days merely writing platitudes to people all over Arda?" Elrond asked.

"I always felt it was threats more than platitudes." Elladan said. "There have been plenty of threats sent her way."

"Pardon?" Elrond asked in concern.

"Threats to Morwen; one of the new pages passed them off to me not knowing where they should go. Thandrog took them though, said Glorfindel would wish to see them first." Elladan said.

Elrond whispered, "So it begins again; they go after one to go after us all."

"Father?" Elladan asked, a hand on Elrond's shoulder.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Elladan. Someone in Morwen's position often receives these things. I am certain even Eluialeth has her fair share." Elrond assured him.

"She probably saves them as signs of her success." Elladan said.

"As efficient as her father, is she not?" Elrond asked.

"Well, yes," Elladan said, "and no. I think Eluialeth is distracted by something but with Morwen gone…"

"She knows not who to turn to." Elrond said.

"May I suggest you send her to Lothlorien?" Elladan asked.

"A lovely idea." Elrond agreed as he held open the door to this study.

* * *

Elrond sat behind his desk and closed his eyes as he reacquainted himself with the familiar smells of parchment and ink, the feel of his chair, the sounds of laughter, and singing, and the loud voice of the Bruinen. It truly was good to be home again and to see everything was normal. Elrond watched Erestor, his own eyes flashing with amusement, as Erestor paced back and forth and stated the events which had occurred in Elrond's absence. 

"Despite his reaction and relief at your return, Elladan did well for his time alone." Erestor said.

"Any situations to handle?" Elrond asked.

"A group of humans whose home was leveled by orcs requested temporary shelter from us." Erestor said. "Elladan placed them in the wing we have reserved for our refugee guests, sent healers and food to them and even now has a team out building a new home for the families closer to the valley. Eluialeth determined the allocation of the resources for the project."

"The second generation does begin to form." Elrond muttered.

"Where are the others?" Erestor asked.

"Glorfindel well be retuning briefly to relieve Thandrog for a week or so, but he will soon set out again to Lothlorien after that. I think he fears Morwen will march to Mirkwood on her own if he leaves her unguarded for too long." Elrond said.

"Now that Elladan is in better health he will be able to assist Thandrog." Erestor stated.

"Indeed. Which is why when Glorfindel returns to the Golden Wood you will be going with him." Elrond said.

Erestor slapped his ledger closed, "Elrond…"

"Your daughter misses you; take the whole family." Elrond said.

"My Lord, you cannot….."

"Erestor, Imladris will not fall if you are not within her halls." Elrond said.

Erestor bowed his head in defeat, "Faeleth will not go, she has many things to do with the coming of Mid-Winter."

Elrond nodded, "You will still be quite able to travel then, as will Eluialeth."

"Will you recall Elrohir?" Erestor asked. "You will be in need of more assistance than Faeleth and Elladan can provide."

"Elrohir and Estel, yes. I believe Gilraen needs more time to herself." Elrond stated.

Erestor started, "Mother's are often not…"

"The Dunedain sons often spend their adolescent years away from their mothers. Gilraen knows this and has even asked me if I would be sending Estel on his year away from his family home soon." Elrond replied.

"That race has an extended lifespan, why do they hurry so quickly to adulthood?" Erestor pondered.

"What other choice do they have, Erestor? They live a harsh life." Elrond sighed, "But I do not wish to see Estel become a young man so soon. Still, it would be a dishonor to him and the ways of the his people if I tried to keep him our little human an elfling much longer."

"He has an advanced mind, even for an elf. His scholarly training and healer training is above average for one of his age." Erestor remarked.

"His weapons training and his time in the Wild is not." Elrond said.

"Glorfindel will not be here to train him if he is to return to Lothlorien." Erestor said.

"I believe I still know how to wield a sword." Elrond said.

Erestor sighed, "Draft the order to recall them and I will send it out with one of the messenger birds."

Elrond smiled again, "I thank you, my loyal friend."

"I am forever in your debt as you saved me from the wrath of Cirdan." Erestor replied.

Elrond's smile was bright, "I knew then you would be the greatest of councilors; you put aside all sense of awe and propriety over the fact you knew well you were correct."

"So that's what did it then?" Erestor asked, standing in the doorway.

"Who else could I have to help forge my own realm?" Elrond asked.

Erestor smiled, "I am, of course, the best in that respect." The Chief Councilor said as he left Elrond to his writing.

* * *

**_Lothlorien_**

Glorfindel stood in the entrance of the library and watched as Morwen poured over volume after volume of elven written work. He dropped his traveling pack inside the library and moved toward the she-elf who was deeply engrossed in her study.

Glorfindel sat beside Morwen and kissed her temple. "Have you decided to order new clothing?" Glorfindel studied the patter in front of Morwen, "Or rather ancient clothing for a male elf?"

"I am trying to discern the meaning behind a tunic Elladan asked Arwen to make. I know I've seen the designs somewhere before but I am not certain where." Morwen answered, the annoyance clear in her tone.

Glorfindel's gaze returned to the illustrations and felt a wide smile grace his face. "Has Elladan spoken of this to you?"

Morwen placed down her book in a bit of frustration. "No he has not." She stated. "I do not know why."

"Perhaps he fears that if he makes his desires and hopes verbally known bad luck will come his way." Glorfindel closed the book in front of Morwen and pulled it away. "Do not study this anymore. Trust Elladan to tell you when he needs to tell you. It will be an insult to your friendship if you do this without his consent."

"Truly?" Morwen asked.

"Yes." Glorfindel said. "Did you find anything else of interest in your studies?"

Morwen opened her mouth to reply but stopped as a shy smile came over her lips. Reaching a hand up, she pulled his hair back and studied his ears.

"I thought so." Morwen whispered.

"Pardon?" Glorfindel asked as he repeated his Morwen actions, eyes briefly resting on the earrings Tirnion gifted her with many mid-winters ago.

Morwen held out a slim volume which claimed to be a definitive source on battle-wear of the First Age. Glorfindel's breath caught but Morwen quickly opened the small book to a marked page depicting the simple jewelry worn by a soldier of the Noldor.

"In my day," Glorfindel smiled, "the first time around, we would wear armor with our house insignias and colors, this you know, but we would also all wear earrings such as those; elaborate creations, each unique to the individual and to their station, with the uniformity being somewhere in the metal or the color. It was the best way to designate friend from foe and when the earring did not match with the armor, it was a clear an enemy was amongst us. Even earlier they were used to designate one race of elf from another."

"The kin-slayings?" Morwen asked.

"Yes." Glorfindel answered, his throat tight.

"Not a very common practice these days." Morwen remarked. "The piercing of ears or any elf."

"If you wandered on to a large battlefield, I assure you, you would see something along similar lines." Glorfindel laughed, "I eagerly await the day when it comes time for Elladan and Elrohir to participate in this time honored tradition."

"You just want to be the needle wielding villain." Morwen said.

"I believe it is a just reward for all the things they have done to me." Glorfindel said.

"Who has done what to you?" Galueth asked as she entered the room, Rilasseth and Arwen at her sides.

"The twins." Glorfindel stated while he looked the group over. "Has the library become the meeting room?"

"Haldir is all up in proper arms at the fact Rilasseth is carrying a child of royal blood." Arwen said.

Rilasseth nodded, "I did not think it would be proper to throw such a beloved elf off a talan, therefore.."

"Haldir does not often stray into the library." Galueth explained.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Morwen asked, dodging the scolding tap from Glorfindel's hand.

"One day you and Haldir will be forced to reach a level of civility." Glorfindel said.

"And on that day the whole of Arda will be swallowed by the seas and none shall life to tell such a tale." Arwen stated. She sat down beside Morwen, "No one would believe such a fanciful thing."

"What did Haldir do to you anyway?" Rilasseth asked.

"Existed." Morwen answered.

Rilasseth laughed, "Ah, such a horrible crime."

Glorfindel shook his head before kissing Morwen's forehead, "I should be on my way."

"Where are you going?" Arwen asked.

"Back to Imladris for a few days. Galadriel has letters she wishes only for Elrond's eyes and does not dare to risk far speaking as she does not know who could be listening." Glorfindel said.

Galueth wrinkled her brow, "She suspects the white wizard as well?"

"Grandmother clearly doesn't trust him." Arwen stated.

"Arwen, the only living being Galadriel trusts is Celeborn and I am not certain if that is all the time." Glorfindel answered.

Their conversation halted as Orophin bounded into the room, "As my wife has ordered my appearance the second news of Mirkwood arrived, I am here to deliver it." Orophin took a deep breath, "Smaug has flown from the mountain setting all of Lake-town a flame."

"What of the patrols on the Lonely Mountain?" Glorfindel asked.

"Alive; despite Smaug's best attempts to squash them, set them on fire, blow them to the four corners and kill them with falling stone as Smaug knocked holes in the mountain."

"Tirnion?" Morwen asked.

"He is safe, last word Thranduil received. They are going to Lake-town, a whole delegation. Thranduil wished to assure for himself Smaug has died." Orophin informed them.

"I am certain the treasure has nothing to do with it." Glorfindel muttered and then flinched as Morwen dug an elbow into his side.

Rilasseth sighed, "Berenon returned to Mirkwood safely?"

Orophin smiled, "Completely safe. The whole party arrived without a scratch on them."

"Good." Rilasseth breathed deep, "That is very good. Lovely. I think I need to go lie down."

"Orophin." Galueth said, "Will you…"

"Of course." Orophin said as he held an arm out to Rilasseth, "I know a lovely glade to rest in; lots of flowers and the soothing sound of water."

Arwen nodded, "It is one of my favorites places, quite beautiful at night." She dropped a hastily written letter into Glorfindel's lap, "For Elladan."

"Noted." Glorfindel replied.

"Thank you." Rilasseth said to Orophin as she allowed herself to be escorted from the library.

Once Orophin was gone Glorfindel, message in hand, turned to Morwen and ordered, "You will stay here."

"I will stay here." Morwen said.

"You will not ride to Mirkwood, Lake-town, the Lonely Mountain or any other place in that vicinity." Glorfindel said.

"I will not ride to Mirkwood, Lake-town, the Lonely Mountain or any other place in that vicinity nor will I be dictated to like a child." Morwen stated.

Glorfindel shrugged, "I am only being so precise as your mind is deviously intelligent in working out arguments and you would find a way to assure me you did not ride to any of those mentioned destinations but will stay close enough to be…"

"Glorfindel, Berenon asked me to offer my companionship to Rilasseth. I am not abandoning a pregnant elf to the likes of Haldir." Morwen said.

"Oh. Right." Glorfindel replied.

"Honestly, you would think I was still an infant." Morwen muttered.

"You are not a child; you simply go to extremes when your loved ones are threatened." Glorfindel said.

Morwen snorted, "As you so maintain the perfect amount of calm and decorum."

"I am always level headed." Glorfindel said, choosing to ignore the snorts so elegantly performed by both Arwen and Galueth. "I must leave now."

"Try not to get yourself killed." Morwen said as she turned back to her research.

"Try not to run off into danger." Glorfindel said as he briefly kissed her. "And please, try to be civil towards Haldir."

"He almost pushed Curunir off a talan and then almost pushed him into a river. I may even be nice to Haldir." Morwen said.

"You must not do that, he'd die of the shock." Glorfindel said. "Arwen, Galueth, I will see you both again soon."

With those final words, Glorfindel picked up his pack and left the room, hurrying through the various trees to the stables in the distance.

* * *

"You arrived sooner than expected." Elrond said as he followed Glorfindel into his chamber. Indeed, Glorfindel had arrived early and in a flurry bearing ill tidings of what was coming. 

"Hwit seemed well aware we have much to do and little time in which to do it." Glorfindel said as he threw his pack onto his bed.

"I thought you were staying for a week." Elrond remarked.

"I would not even stay for a night if the horse was not in need of rest." Glorfindel said, smiling at the chamber maids who entered the room with warm water, towels, and soap.

"Is the situation becoming so grave that rapidly?" Elrond asked as he took a seat on the bed.

"Last message I received assured me that the wizards had cleared out Dol Guldur, but the wood elves were being attacked by the remnants. Smaug was brought down by a mortal man but Lake-town is burning and the dwarves are still in the mountain."

"How fares Mr. Baggins?"

"Thranduil never saw him but the elves of Mirkwood sensed his spirit. They know he left when the dwarves escaped and that is all they know." Glorfindel paused as he washed his hands and face. "Galadriel's has tightened the patrols on her borders in case any orc becomes desperate enough to stray into her wood. Arwen is safe."

"What of Morwen?" Elrond asked.

"She desires to offer her aid, of course." Glorfindel said.

"I am surprised you left her there to her own devices." Elrond said.

Glorfindel patted his face dry and began to wash the dust out of his hair, "As Berenon was needed in his own realm and was not so eager to bring Rilasseth into a potential battle zone, he earned a promise out of Morwen to watch over his wife."

Elrond laughed, "And did you suggest Berenon seek such a promise?"

"I may have offered a few suggestions when he came to me with concerns over leaving his wife in an unfamiliar land."

Elrond shook his head, "Morwen will be livid when she figures such a thing out."

"Elrond, this is Morwen." Glorfindel stated.

"Ah, she already knows then." Elrond pulled out fresh clothes and began to clean out Glorfindel's pack. "All these Ages, Glorfindel, and you still keep you pack like the twins, which is to say far from neat."

"I was in a hurry." Glorfindel insisted.

Elrond laughed, "My friend, you must have been in a hurry your whole…"

"I noticed Elladan had his cast removed. Again." Glorfindel remarked, working the last bit of dirt and dust out of his hair.

"How goes the search for the permanent second-in-command?" Elrond asked.

"How goes your clearly receding hairline?" Glorfindel asked as he toweled his hair dry.

"As well as your clearly greying hair." Elrond stated.

"Half-elf." Glorfindel muttered.

"Supposedly re-born elf." Elrond shot back.

"I thought we settled this in the Second Age." Glorfindel said, about to lose control of his laughter.

"I have my moments of doubt." Elrond's smile was wide as he waited for Glorfindel to change into cleaner clothing. "Come have one last full meal before heading back on the road again. I know well how the lembas tastes."

"I know we are beings of a superior nature, but you would think they could have added some sort of spice to the mix after all this time." Glorfindel held open the door for Elrond "So are the rumors true? Is Erestor leaving his post for the first time in centuries?"

"Have the rumors spread that rapidly?" Elrond asked.

"I knew before I entered the stables. You've sent the trees into an uproar." Glorfindel said.

"Erestor needs to see his daughter." Elrond insisted.

"Eluialeth needs to see Tirnion." Glorfindel laughed, "I never thought I'd see you play matchmaker again."

Elrond said, "The first time did not end so badly; Lindir's eyebrows grew back, did they not?"

"Elladan has commissioned his sister to make an official tunic of betrothal, did you know that?" Glorfindel asked.

"I did not." Elrond smiled. "How did you know?"

"Apparently Elladan has been sneaking into the library under our very eyes. He sent the pattern to Arwen and she has been fashioning it, completely unaware of its meaning. Morwen has finally located the pattern but has not yet discerned it."

"Elladan has not told her?" Elrond asked, surprised.

"I wonder if Elladan has even told Elrohir." Glorfindel stated.

Elrond laughed, "I hope he is able to keep some mystery around his betrothal ceremony."

"Unlike you who had to commission Celebrian herself to make your tunic." Glorfindel said with a sly smile.

"How was I to know Laeriel skills were so utterly dismal in that respect?" Elrond asked through his chuckles.

The elves continued to reminisce about their past as in another wing of the house, a future was being forged.

* * *

Eluialeth sat on her bed and stared out into the sky for countless hours. Ever since Glorfindel came riding into Imladris bearing the grim news from the East, Eluialeth could do nothing but stare in that direction. Eluialeth had found it quite hard to sleep these past few weeks, much less articulate what she was feeling. 

She needed….in all honesty she needed Morwen. It did not feel proper bringing such concerns to her mother but Morwen, she would know how to sort out Eluialeth's jumbled mind. It was, after all, what she did best, finding the peace in the chaos.

She did not remembering hearing a knock on her door or giving permission to enter but all too soon she found her father sitting beside her.

Eluialeth smiled as Erestor and took her hands into his own.

"I am traveling to Lothlorien at the request of both your mother and my own desires. You will come with me." Erestor stated.

"Father.." Eluialeth began to say.

"You will be far too worried about Tirnion if you stay here. In Lothlorien your sister and Morwen will gladly distract you and you will hear news of the battles more quickly than you would here." Erestor said.

"Tirnion is not the only elf I am worried about." Eluialeth said while she leaned into his father's tight embrace.

"Of course he isn't, my darling." Erestor whispered. "He is a good elf, he will make a good husband."

"Father!" Eluialeth protested.

Erestor held up a hand, "I am merely stating for the record my opinion of Tirnion."

Eluialeth shook her head, "It is not needed for any reason which you are insinuating."

Erestor straightened up, "Eluialeth, it is perfectly normal for you to experience such feelings.."

"There are no feelings." Eluialeth said.

"Your current reaction shows there are, indeed, feelings." Erestor remarked.

"Do not work your councilor knowledge on me." Eluialeth insisted.

"Eluialeth, consider this: It took Galueth over a century to tell me of her feelings in regards to Orophin, it took her even longer to convince me to give my consent to her marriage and I am still debating over whether or not I approve of Orophin. Tirnion, I have approved of and trusted within the first fortnight of knowing him. My approval is given if something should happen the next time you two discus…squirrels." Erestor said.

"Father, we discuss squirrels." Eluialeth said.

Erestor shrugged, "If that is what the youth call it these days then I suppose…"

"Father, we discuss squirrels." Eluialeth muttered for a second time.

Erestor patted her shoulder as he stood up. "We leave with the night. Glorfindel is eager to return, something about not trusting Morwen as far as she can shoot an arrow."

"Morwen is not allowed to shoot arrows." Eluialeth said, confused at the phrase.

Erestor smiled, "Exactly." He kissed the top of Eluialeth's head. "Pack only the essentials. Galadriel will be more than generous with us."

Eluialeth nodded as she watched her father go. Her eyes strayed over to her desk and she began to pull out the annals for Celebrian, a favored journal, and the packet which contained all her correspondence with Tirnion. Pressing her fingers gently over the often-read letters she whispered a prayer to the Valar. Elves could be fearsome creatures, as could dwarves. A dragon, a hoard of gold, and the cursed pride on both sides could only end violently. Reaching deeper into her desk she pulled out her first copy of the lore of the First and Second Ages. It was a copy her own father had penned early in the Third Age, eager to get as much knowledge down as possible before time blocked those memories. When she asked him about his life during those earlier years, he had simply handed her this book; the writing style and penmanship far too informal to be added to the library. She had always glanced through the work, never taking the time to settle down and read it from end to end. Quickly she added it to the pile of things for her pack; if it could not entertain her on this journey, it could help her understand the motivations behind what was currently taking place in Mirkwood and the Lonely Mountain. To Eluialeth such actions seemed so pointless.

* * *

A/N 1: Sorry for the major delay, just a lot of real life issues. As always spoiler scenes and additional series can be found on the lj if you're dying for something in-between updates. 

A/N 2: **Thanks**

Anonomyss, Glad to know you love the story! There's only two more chapters to go and then this part of the series will finally be done. Sorry for the delay!

**As this site is currently not accepting any of my new documents, all updates will be on the writing lj (see my profile). **


	12. 11 To Find A Future

**Disclaimer: See Previous**

**A Journey Begins…**

_**Chapter Eleven….To Find A Future**_

Part 1

_Honor and policy, like unsever'd friends,_

I' th' war do grow together.

-William Shakespeare, _Coriolanus_

_October, TA 2941_

_**Between Mirkwood and Lake-town**_

It was easy to tell the camp of the elves from that of the men, even though the camps were leagues and days away from each other. The men's tents were made of light cloths, vivid and bright in the darkness of night. They were quiet, somber, nervous within their camps. They played near silent games of chance by candlelight, read from pages not yet burned, cried silent tears over all that was lost. The elves kept their tents, shades of green and brown, tied closer to the trees. It was only the sight of elves moving in and out and the whisper of fabric which distinguished the cloth from the wood. The elves were singing, softly as they were mindful of their human fellows down the river. Some were gathered in circles, no need for camp fires, their lanterns providing some light. Thranduil stood between the two areas and marked the differences, listened to the sobs mingled with the songs. It was the sound of war, more telling than any beating drum for the march. Some gave into despair, others fought to find hope or strength through songs of old. A smile stretched across Thranduil's face as he remembered a battlefield from an Age ago and the sight of a soot-covered and battered minstrel, carrying a broken harp, still finding the power within to sing songs of victory though he had witnessed his High-King destroyed by the darkest power on Arda. The King of the Woodland elves stopped his contemplation and made a note to ask just how Lindir was doing the next time he stumbled across an elf from Imladris. His gaze turned to the west, certain it would not be long before a handful of dark-haired and worried Noldor came charging into his camp.

Thranduil turned back to the camp of Lake-town survivors in the distance. It had been many centuries since Thranduil had fought alongside men. He never thought it would be in the cause of a dwarf battle, and even this was not the true task. There were darker things here. He only hoped Mithrandir managed to get the worst of it under control.

"King Thranduil?" Glovien asked.

"Yes?" Thranduil turned towards the warrior. Her face was still streaked with soot and scratches from her run down the mountain. Despite the twigs tangled in her hair she stood tall and proud, a bright smile on her face.

"Claurion and Tirnion are awake; the healers are tending to them now. Minor cuts and bruises, my King, both just knocked their heads on the fall from the mountain path." Glovien said.

"Thank you, Glovien, I will be there in a moment." Thranduil told the elf, nodding as she bowed and retreated. Thranduil gave one last look to the remnants of Lake-town, the smell of the still burning fires reaching him and dragging up far too many memories of the past. He turned away from the water and walked toward the healing tent, ready to taunt two of his best warriors about their clumsy footing.

* * *

_**The Havens**_

Elrohir traced Quenya in the sand while he listened to Cirdan instruct Estel about ship building. Love of water did seem to flow through their family line. It was a fanciful dream, but for a moment Elrohir wondered what kind of mariner Estel would become. The Dunedain no longer sailed, the desire to do so seeming to sink with the island that was their ancestral home.

"You have a summons."

Elrohir looked up from the sand into the face of Galdor.

"Who sent it?" Elrohir asked.

"Imladris. Your father, perhaps." Galdor answered, holding the letter out.

Elrohir noted the seal was in tact and his father's handwriting on the front. Pulling a knife from his boot, he broke the seal and read the letter. It was, indeed, a summons. "Trouble in the East, I'm being recalled home, as is Estel."

"Would he not be safer here?" Galdor asked.

"They could use the rivers and the seas to travel here, as they have done in the past. Imladris is protected by many things unseen and undetected." Elrohir replied. He stood up and said, "I hate to take Estel from here, but if my father is worried, I should not refuse his request."

"Would you like me to find Gilraen so you may start packing?" Galdor asked.

"No," Elrohir said, walking towards the ancient elf and the young boy, "she is staying here."

* * *

_**Lothlorien**_

Morwen stretched out on the talan floor, a cool breeze tickling her bare feet and ruffling the skirts of her dress. She had kept her promise to Glorfindel and refrained from venturing closer to Mirkwood's borders by moving in the opposite direction. Galadriel was happy to grant Morwen and Rilasseth permission to accompany Haldir on his weekly tour of the Western boundary. Rilasseth was faring much better being so far removed from the tendrils of darkness leaking out of Mirkwood's borders and Morwen always fared better when she caused Haldir even the slightest inconvenience.

The whispers through the leaves became louder. Morwen raised her head as she saw Haldir prepare his bow. She looked over to Rilasseth who quickly moved behind the massive trunk of the tree. Morwen held her breath as Haldir's back went taunt. As the wind died down Haldir's back loosened.

"Oh, Eru, two more politicians from Imladris." Haldir cursed.

Morwen did not hesitate to slap the side of Haldir's head as she maneuvered closer to his line of sight. The dark heads of Eluialeth and Erestor drew her eye as her gaze passed over branches and leaves. Glorfindel came into view, riding behind the party and keeping a watchful eye, even as the group neared Caras Galadhon.

"That was a very quick journey." Rilasseth said, moving towards them.

"How touching it must be for you to realize how little faith your lover has in your promises." Haldir said, turning his gaze to Morwen.

"Or how little faith he has in your abilities to protect me." Morwen replied.

"Who is fool enough to believe you need protection?" Haldir asked. "Your sharp manner would make any evil run away in terror."

Morwen patted Haldir on the head as she lowered the rope ladder. "I love it so when you compliment me." She said.

Morwen could feel Haldir's glare on the top of her head as she descended. She heard a grunt from above and could only assume that Haldir was helping Rilasseth down on the other end of the talan. She moved quietly but knew she was spotted when Glorfindel raised his head with a sharp tilt. Erestor and Eluialeth still rode on, oblivious to the elves dropping down into their path. It was a sad and cautious testimony to how long it had been since Erestor rode out in the world and Morwen knew Glorfindel would tease him for such a lack of caution.

Morwen lifted her head as she heard the near silent sound of elves moving. She spared a glance to the trees and watched as the guardians of the Golden Wood prepared to defend their home. In times such as these it was not unheard of for friend to turn into foe. Haldir moved in front of her, pushing Rilasseth to her side while two other Lothlorien archers approached to round out the guard. Haldir raised his hand, signaling the archers in the trees to stand down.

"We were not expecting your return so soon, Glorfindel, nor were we expecting such company." Haldir passed a bored glance over Erestor and Eluialeth.

Glorfindel dismounted and bowed his head in acknowledgment to the march warden. "I felt the urge to return quickly and you cannot deny that Galueth is due a visit from her family. I think you should be more open to greeting the family of your brother's wife."

"If I can be so certain these elves are them," Haldir gestured to the two elves still on their mounts, "it has been so long since they have come to this wood."

Erestor sneered, dropping from his horse, and glared at Haldir. "Do not test my patience, Haldir of Lothlorien, I remember when you were but a babe in swaddling and hardly able to stand. I think it would be in the best interest of your reputation to not take such a tone with me."

Eluialeth pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. She spoke in a resigned tone, "Please, can we take your needless male posturing closer to Caras Galadhon or must we stand here while you three try to intimidate each other?"

"You _must_ be Eluialeth." The archer closest to Morwen's side said.

Morwen shook her head and wondered just how long it would take before another kin-slaying was declared.

* * *

"Eru, please tell me someone brought down that damnable dragon." Claurion said, clutching his side.

Tirnion placed a hand over his face and blinked against the harsh sunlight coming in through the healing tent. The escape from the mountain had gone well until Claurion tripped over a root and grabbed the nearest stable object. Tirnion was still wondering how two grown elves, trained and reared in the woods, living under the guise of the shadow for so long, could manage to tumble down half the side of a mountain before the boulders near the bottom broke their fall. He was only too grateful that the event was witnessed by a few of his troops as opposed to a whole regiment.

"So much for the nimble feet of the Wood Elves."

Tirnion groaned again at the deep voice. Of course King Thranduil knew the tale of their injuries. There would be no living with him now. Tirnion pushed himself upright, grimacing as his bruised arms shook under his weight.

"My King," Tirnion bit out, "it is an honor to see you in good health."

Thranduil sat down next to Tirnion's cot, the simple stool seemed like a throne from the Woodland king's aura. He pressed a cautious hand to Tirnion's arm, his cool rings sliding against Tirnion's warm skin.

"You have a fever." Thranduil said.

"Hardly a surprise since he fell down a mountain." A she-elf voice called from the other side of the tent.

Tirnion closed his eyes in pain as his eldest sister's voice rang out. Arodeth did not suffer fools or graceless elves or injuries well. He could imagine the missive that had gone out to his mother while he recovered.

"Oh stop it," Arodeth said as she came into the room, "I did not inform our mother of your complete lack of agility. I did dash off a letter to that Imladris elf of yours. I figure her wrath will be even more of a lesson to you than Mother's."

Tirnion shook his head. "Morwen does not often mock those with physical injuries."

"Not the councilor, the other one. Erestor's youngest daughter." Arodeth said.

Claurion reached across the space between their cots and patted Tirnion on the shoulder. "It was good knowing you, Capitan. I'll make certain you have a fitting send-off to Mandos' Halls."

"I would not be so smart-mouthed, Claurion." Arodeth warned as she slapped a poultice onto his face. "My sister is well aware of your fault in my brother's injury. I would not be surprised if you find yourself sleeping with the spiders when we return home."

Tirnion turned his gaze back to Thranduil. "Out of all the healers in our forces, you picked my sister. Does my mother even know she is here?"

Thranduil nodded, passing a drought to Tirnion. "Even your mother knows she has little power in the face of a determined Arodeth. She taunts you only because she loves you."

Tirnion took a deep swallow of the drought. He felt the cool liquid flow through his body. "Have you found the dragon?" he asked.

"He is dead." Thranduil said. "It attacked Lake-town and some surrounding villages before it was shot down by a boy of a man named Bard."

"The Race of Men always end up surprising me." Claurion said.

"They do have an amazing resilience." Tirnion agreed. He studied Thranduil's face before asking, "What are you not telling us?"

Thranduil sighed and stood. He walked over to the front of the tent and pulled back the flap, showing the burnt remains of what was once Lake-town, clear to the far-seeing gazes of the elves. "The damage is severe." Thranduil said, the pain of all the years he had seen and wars he had witnessed in his voice.

Tirnion bowed his head and whispered a prayer to the Valar while Claurion gaped at the horizon.

* * *

"What do you mean Erestor is not in Imladris?" Elrohir asked. He snatched his pack away from Rian's outstretched arms. Estel was at his side, trying to rub a splotch of dirt off his face and only succeeding in making it worse.

Rian glared at Elrohir as she took hold of his pack again. "How more plain would you like it spoken, Elrohir? Our Master Councilor is no longer in residence. He has left for a month at the very least. He has gone to your grandparents' realm and there he shall stay until he decides to return."

"That is most lovely." Elrohir muttered. He guided Estel up the stairs and into the house. "Why do we not all just ran away to the Golden Wood and stay for years on end? Lovely solution to the problems in the world. Orcs running loose? Run to the Golden Wood. Parents killed in a mountain pass? The Golden Wood can solve all problems. Councilors wanting to avoid their duty? Lovely little place known as the Golden Wood to shelter them."

"Elrohir, be fair," Rian scolded, "Erestor has not taken a journey for ages. When did he last see Galueth?"

"There is that unimaginable notion of her coming to visit here." Elrohir sneered. His body itched from the dirt or the road and his hair needed a good washing. The irritation that his bathing would be delayed was only made worse by the news Rian delivered upon their arrival.

"Why are you so desirous of Erestor's presence?" Rian asked.

The tenuous control Elrohir held over his irritation snapped. He gave Rian a cool glare and said, "Because there are things which Erestor knows that my father does not. Because there are concerns you take to a childhood tutor before anyone else. Because Cirdan has a message for me that he insists must go to Erestor at once, and failing him Morwen, and I have no desire to take that damnable journey to Lothlorien!"

"Elrohir, language." Estel said, swatting the elf on his leg.

"Sorry." Elrohir replied. He pushed Estel toward his room. "Tell one of the house elves you are home and need to wash-up. They will find a change of clothes for you."

"I am not dirty." Estel insisted.

"Estel, you could build a wreath with all the twigs in your hair." Rian said. She pulled out a few to prove her point. "Go see Sileth in the garden. She just finished a new stack of clean tunics."

Estel took off, small clouds of dust and sand following him as he hopped up the steps. Elrohir shook his head but knew he was the same at such an age. No dirt pile or sand dune could be resisted. Now, however, he could appreciate the grand reward of a good bath.

Rian watched Estel leave, covering her mouth with a hand to hide the smile at his trail of dirt-crested footprints. It was good Erestor was not in Imladris, she could imagine the indignant rant of his over such a mess.

"Now," the red-haired elf turned to Elrohir, "will you explain to me why you cannot allow one of our messenger elves to deliver Cirdan's missive?"

"Does the careful monitoring of realm secrets mean nothing to you?" Elrohir shook his head, "Rian, we are close to a time of a war. I cannot let some unknown messenger take off with a letter entrusted to me."

"But, Elrohir, you know messengers are sacred in a fight."

"If those you fight have any sort of honor, which the orcs lack. Furthermore, we can never know if a messenger has orders from another side, and we have too much honor to interrogate or invade their minds to achieve an answer. That is why so few elves are trusted with important messages and why the messenger birds are rotated so often."

"Then it seems you have no choice but to ride out." Rian returned the riding pack to Elrohir. "I will inform your father. Take a wash, get some rest, and clean your pack out."

Elrohir sighed, "Thank you, Rian. I will leave in the morning. Tell the stable master I will need a fresh horse, please, if you have a moment before seeking out my father. Also, please tell my father I will visit him after I have rested."

Rian placed a warm hand on Elrohir's shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. "I wish for the day when you will find the peace you so desperately seek."

Elrohir patted her hand and pulled her into a hug, ignoring her noise of protest. He caught sight of his twin lingering in the doorway, giving the pair an odd look. Elrohir could not stop the mischievous smile from reaching his lips. He pressed a chaste kiss to Rian's ear and whispered low, "And I wish for the day when I may truthfully and legally call you sister."

* * *

Eluialeth of Imladris, despite being the daughter of a Master Councilor and the friend of many a scribe and librarian, was not a fan of welcoming ceremonies. Or farewell ceremonies. Or any sort of ceremony, really. She had little tolerance for the false faces and speeches given in order to keep a situation stable. Her dislike of the theatre of politics, her outright scathing critiques of such behavior, was the reason she would never become a senior councilor, and she well knew it. Still, despite her lack of respect or like for ceremonies, they _were_ still expected.

Time had certainly changed in Lothlorien, where the welcoming party was made of elves with drawn bows, the Lord and Lady could not be torn away from their meeting, and their royal granddaughter was off somewhere sewing. Eluialeth was, to be honest, a bit put out. Still, she had things to do, elves to see, and news to gather. She waved her father off as Glorfindel dragged him towards the quarters of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, chastising her father about his lack of awareness upon their arrival, and soon found herself the attention of many a Lothlorien elf.

"They have heard many rumors of your behavior." Rilasseth informed her, a slight superior tone to her voice.

Eluialeth fought the urge to remind the elf, an elf who was only upright thanks to the strong arms of the march warden steadying her from behind, that it was not proper to remind someone of their failings in front of a large crowd and outside of the council rooms, but pregnant elves were forgiven any and everything. She felt the scathing look she gave Rilasseth was answer enough, and if it was not, the gasp and warding sign from the elf satisfied Eluialeth, before she turned to Morwen.

Morwen made no attempt to hide her laughter. She held out a guiding arm to Eluialeth and pulled her into a quick embrace. Eluialeth smiled into Morwen's hair as the breath of her laughter tickled Eluialeth's neck. She inhaled deeply of Morwen's scent, and felt a centering of her own spirit.

"Tirnion is well," Morwen whispered, mindful of the crowd around them, "if but a bit bruised. Lake-town is not well, and Rumil is trying to convince the Lady and Lord of the wood to send a group with aid to the survivors. I am going to try and convince Glorfindel to let us join the party." Morwen pulled away and spoke in a louder tone of voice, "Let me take you to your sister's talan, I know she will be so eager to see you."

Eluialeth was not often sentimental, but she knew never to put aside the good will and warm gesture of another person. She also was old enough to recognize that even when there was not a formal ceremony in front of her, a welcome face and a warm embrace could soothe any ruffled feathers. Eluialeth smiled at Morwen, surprised at her own eagerness to see her sister. She ignored the quiet comments from the elves surrounding her, the whispers of her cool nature, her dark looks, her icy demeanor and her drawn face and followed Morwen with her head held high and a smile on her lips.

* * *

Her heart yearned for home and Arwen knew, all too soon, she had to leave the realm of her grandparents. It was still not the right time, not yet. The same force that urged her home kept her here just that much longer. Still, the force could not stop her from wishing for the familiar comfort of Imladris' waterfalls, its stone walkways and its many inhabitants. Her longing for home could be the only explanation for what she saw before her.

"I have spent far too much time in the sun." Arwen whispered. She put down her sewing of Elladan's tunic and pressed a finger against the vision in front of her, surprised to find the elf body solid.

"I am real, Arwen." Erestor's irritable voice said from above.

"I did not think it possible for you to live outside of Imladris," Arwen smiled up at her old tutor, "I thought you would melt, or fade, or disappear is you went ten steps outside of the borders."

"I have fought in wars and gone on many diplomatic missions." Erestor grumbled while he made his way down to Arwen's level. He sat down beside her, his dark robe a heavy contrast to the bright grass.

"But what are you doing _here_?" Arwen asked. She could recount Erestor's visit to her grandparent's home on one hand. It was well-known Erestor held little love for the Golden Wood, and found many an excuse to not travel under its eaves.

"To see my daughter, and my youngest charge who has forgotten the way home." Erestor patted Arwen's head. "Your presence is yearned for, by your father most of all."

"As you and all visiting elves of Imladris are so eager to tell me." Arwen patted Erestor's hand. "I will come home when it is the right time and it is not so. Not yet." Arwen pulled her old tutor down into a hug. "It is good to see you outside of the libraries."

"Even I need fresh air." Erestor admitted. He returned the hug in kind, his grip strong around her shoulders.

"Are you also here to intimidate Orophin into silence again?" Arwen asked, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Erestor laughed, the soft sound striking from such a firm countenance, "Faeleth does wonder why there are no grandchildren."

"She took two ages to marry you and now she wants to hurry her daughter along." Arwen shook her head. "I will not be so rushed."

"No," Erestor agreed, "I doubt any will make you change your heart once it is settled. They certainly cannot change your mind."

"It it such a fault to have the determination of my father and the strong will of my mother?" Arwen asked.

"No fault at all," Erestor reassured her with another pat to her head, "I rather think it is a gift. Still, you are one of the few noble elves left on Arda, and many yearn for the spectacle of a royal wedding."

"My father's father was a half-elf, and his father was a man. There is no guarantee I will marry an elf." Arwen wrinkled her brow, "Not that there are any royal elves to marry."

"Legolas is still unwed."

"I will not be my like my father's mother, and married to a partner whose heart already belongs to something greater. Earendil love the sea, and it consumed him, forever the mariner that he is and shall be. Legolas loves the wood and could not survive a long separation from it. Besides the fact that he is far too young for my tastes and still needs a century or two to mature." Arwen said.

"Listen to you," Erestor exclaimed, "you are near the same age."

"Age and experience is not the same, as Morwen says." Arwen shrugged, "Legolas and I are not compatible and I refuse to marry for anything less than love. My father will not put aside his post, and my brother's will carry it on anyway. No one can wrest control from my grandparents' hands, I doubt Cirdan is ready to sail into the West and abandon the Havens and I would like to see the fool who tells Thranduil to give up his throne. There is no longer a need for royal marriages, not for the elves."

"Our time is waning," Erestor agreed, "as it has for centuries. The Race of Men is not ready yet; their leader must still be shaped and formed, but I feel the time may soon be at hand for his emergence." Erestor patted Arwen's hands and asked, "Is the fear of a forced marriage the reason for the delay of your return?"

Arwen shook her head and answered, "Something cautions me to wait. Until that force removes itself from my mind, I will not disobey. It is not my time to return, Erestor. Please impress that on my father."

"I will do my best." Erestor promised. He rose and placed a chaste kiss on Arwen's forehead. "Enjoy the night."

"I shall." Arwen answered. She took up her sewing again, silver thread gleaming in the moonlight and a soft song playing on the wind around her.

Erestor walked down the tree branches, softly singing, _The Lay of Luthien_ following his steps.

* * *

_**Mid October, TA 2942**_

"My King, messengers have approached us from the river."

Thranduil looked up from his correspondence and nodded at the servant before him.

"Go," Tirnion said, "I doubt I will be moving anytime soon. There should be another night before my sides can handle anything beyond a pleasant walk."

Thranduil smiled and patted Tirnion's head. "We may have to fake a march. There is still a five day walk ahead of us."

"Valar forbid they know your journey here was to offer them aid first, and a march on the mountain second." Claurion said.

"He does have a reputation to maintain." Arodeth said.

"Have the rafts been made ready?" Thranduil asked.

"With the minimal supply runs you requested. They are well hidden behind some bushes." Glauverior said.

"Good." Thranduil said. He looked to Arodeth and smiled. "Please make a greeting tent ready for me and a waiting tent for our guests."

"It is a good thing I already ordered such things constructed." Arodeth murmured as she walked out of the healing tent.

Thranduil laughed, "She is her mother's daughter."

"Unbelievably so." Claurion said.

Thranduil passed a few more moments with the young elves in the healing tent, remembering the time when he was still so young and new to the world. They would heal and fight again. There was a definite fight in the future; the dwarves would not honor the concessions of suffering and rightful claims both Lake-town and the Woodland Realm had to Smaug's treasure. Thranduil could only hope it would not be too long a fight or too bloody a battle.

Thranduil walked to his tent with a measured and steady pace. The emissaries from Lake-town were being kept in one of the healing tents while Thranduil's tent was made ready for a receiving. While some leaders preferred the grand entrance, Thranduil always favored the long wait outside quarters. He enjoyed putting himself in a seated position of power before greeting outsiders. A true king did not need trumpeters, banners, and heralds to announce his presence. His presence should be conveyed in his manner, if only from sitting on a throne. It was a lesson his father taught him: to maintain ritual but to put aside pomp, circumstance and frivolity. Despite the simplicity, Thranduil was still known as a frivolous king in a frivolous kingdom. He often wondered how Galadriel and Elrond would handle living in, running, and protecting a realm that only had the steady and strong resources of jewels and wine. If the only hard currency they could hold was jewels, would they not also be known as jewel-lovers? His reputation was legend by now, and he had stopped trying to fight it long ago, but it did still cause a bought of anger, on the darkest days, when Thranduil compared the hardships of his home to the other elven realms.

Yet here he was, giving aid to a people who knew nothing of him other than this love of jewels and his rule over the "good people" known as the wood elves. But a king did not show weakness in front of his court, or his guests. Thranduil shook his head, took a deep breath, and walked into the tent. Arodeth had proved as resourceful as her mother; the greeting tent was at once both simple and elegant. Thranduil took his place on a simple straight-backed stool, transformed into a grander object by the weaving draped over its sides and the jewel-toned ropes twined around and holding it in place. His oak staff rested next to the stool, the wood polished and gleaming in the warm candlelight. The autumn circlet rested on a table beside the stool, along with a robe of state. Thranduil passed over the robe and donned his crown. The cool metal of his rings clacked against the jeweled berries and leaves intertwined in the circlet as he placed it on his head. He bowed his neck for a moment, whispered a prayer to the Valar, and called out for his guests.

* * *

Bard the Bowman grew up with the legends of the wood elves and their jewel-loving king. Their camp was not what he expected from all the tales. It was simple in terms of construction, with dark colors that blended in with the trees and the grass. There were archers and soldiers practicing, elves sharpening daggers and swords, blacksmiths beating out new creations to the soft rhythms and melodies of elvish song. Their clothes were not spun of gold and silver, through chains did gleam around necks and an occasional flash of jewels could be found on pointed ears. There was no harem of she-elves and humans, despite all the rumors he heard as a boy. He remembered the cautionary tales of his grandmother, telling him to watch his female cousins at all-costs or the elves would snatch them away. There were no wizards and no magical creatures. His presence was ignored as he was led through the crowds, though he had a feeling that there were many unseen eyes marking his way. He was brought to a waiting tent with his fellow emissaries, but Bard found the heavy fabric of the tent too confining. He wandered outside of the tent, drawn to the open sky and the sound of elvish laughter. The laughter was one of the few things that lived up to the legends; it was even more musical than he imagined, and it was something he had never quite heard before. So much life and anguish in such a merry sound

Bard found it disconcerting to be surrounded by people so different from him. He had never found himself in a situation where he did not know at least part of the language and the rituals. He knew a few words of elvish, but not enough to follow the conversations around him. Not that he could hear much of the conversations since the elves spoke so soft and low. A loud burst of laughter drew Bard to a nearby dark green tent. Four elves were gathered inside. Two were male, bare chests wrapped with bindings and sitting on cots. One elf, dressed in the uniform of the guard, was holding a cup of tea above the two, laughing as the sitting elves tried to reach up but could not with their injuries. Another elf, the ends of her light brown dress tied up to reveal a pair of leggings underneath, shook her hand at the other three elves. She spoke quick and terse, a clear command and admonishment in any language. Bard felt the wind moved around him and watched as three elves ran past and into the tent, making no sound as they flew by. One yelled a word, "Legolas," at the leader of the trio and the two elves on the cots threw their bedding at the leader as he ran through the tent and out the other side.

"Not so old and wise then." Bard murmured to himself.

"Bard of Esgaroth?"

Bard flinched in surprise at the accented voice behind him. He turned to find a she-elf standing there. She was tall, taller than him, and wore a dress in the shade of deep green he was coming to associate only with the Wood Elves. She looked at him with an odd mixture of annoyance and respect.

"You are Bard then," the elf said in the Common Tongue, "you were told to wait in the tent."

"I," Bard paused for a moment and tried to think of the best and simplest words to convey his answer in the Common Tongue. "I needed to step outside. I needed the air."

"You felt confined within the space of the tent." The she-elf nodded her head, "It is understandable. However, you presence is now required in the meeting with the King."

Bard followed her, taking long strides to keep up with her pace. "Will the meeting be in the Common Tongue?" Bard asked.

"King Thranduil will start the meeting in whatever language he feels best. He has lived here since the creation of the Lake-town dialect and may choose to conduct the meeting in such. He may deem the Common Tongue most reasonable for these proceedings if anymore guests should arrive." She answered.

"Are you expecting more guests?" Bard asked.

"Many choose to arrive without giving prior notice." The she-elf led him to the front of a tent, similar to all the others. She held beside the flap to the entrance, "I am Arodeth if you require any further assistance. I am one of the few elves who speak both Common Tongue and the dialect of Lake-town and one of the best candidates for serving as your translator outside of the King's presence. Good luck with your proceedings and may the Valar be with you."

"And you." Bard answered, unsure of what type of benediction would not offend an elf. He ducked his head and walked into the tent.

* * *

Thranduil tracked the progress of Bard of Esgaroth. He had sent Arodeth to fetch him once it became clear the other emissaries did not know where the man had gone. He was taller than most from Lake-town. Broad-shouldered but otherwise slim, good form for an archer. His unease was clear. Bard the Bowman was not a common man of the councilor chambers. Thranduil waited for the reaction when Bard would realize that the Elvenking sat in the room. Newcomers always took in the décor first, as if trying to assure themselves they were not so different than the persons they were about to speak with. Thranduil bit back his smile when Bard's eyes finally met his own. The young man's eyes widened and his jaw dropped for a moment. The child would have to be taught to better hide his reactions.

"Bard, I suppose?" Thranduil asked.

The young man bowed. "Yes, Elvenking."

"Good." Thranduil said. He stopped up and waved his hand to the right, lighting the larger candelabras in the room. An easy and common trick, but one that always seemed to entertain the mortals. He stood in front of the emissaries. "I understand you have some requests."

Thranduil gestured to the small table and the set of chairs waiting for the meeting. He waited for the others to sit before taking his own seat. He leaned back and listened to the earnest pleading. The men had their pride, and did not beg, but used their best to appeal to what they perceived as the Elvenking's desires and needs.

"I hear your pleas and feel your pain." Thranduil said. "We are not so far from your camp and are more than able to offer some aid. I will send some messengers to my outposts and have them deliver their surplus supplies to you. We will proceed as soon as we are able. It will take some time to pack everything up and most of my people will need to proceed on foot."

"Any help you can offer is deeply appreciated." Bard said.

"I look forward to our future accomplishments together. There is a march on the Lonely Mountain to be undertaken once your people have recovered to a degree." Thranduil said. He stood, "Gentleman, please make use of our hospitality and enjoy the night. I will bid you farewell in the morning."

Thranduil watched the men leave his tent, amused at the last few uncertain glances thrown his way. He waited until the tent to the flap closed and the men had walked far away before allowing the deep smile to come to his face. He did so enjoy it when his plans worked out well.

* * *

Glorfindel watched Morwen from the entrance to Arwen's favorite glade. Arwen was not too far off, reading by the moonlight. Other elves were gathered throughout the area. Erestor sat in a circle with his daughters and Rilasseth, Orophin beside his wife and doing his level-best to avoid Erestor's glares. Glorfindel looked above to the tree-tops and noted that some of Galadriel's most trusted archers guarded the area. Morwen sat off on her own, seemingly unaware of her surroundings, but the dark glare she kept throwing above her head, and the shredded remains of leaves that Haldir kept dropping in her hair and on the letter she was trying to write, showed she knew all that was going on. Morwen huffed and stood up, moving off to one of the darker corners of the glade and sat down, leaving her letter to rest beside her. Glorfindel threw a signal at Haldir and shooed him off. Those two would be each others' death one day.

Glorfindel walked over to Morwen and sat down beside her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and rested his back against the tree. He twirled strands of her long hair and murmured, "Do not look so bored."

"I was not bored until that damnable elf decided to mock me like a child. At least I now have you present to entertain me." Morwen said. She nestled closer to him, the bare skin of her shoulders contracting as she moved from soft night air to the fabric of Glorfindel's tunic. The dress she wore was a gift from Galueth, common garb for elves from Lothlorien or the Havens, but near on scandalous to Imladris and Mirkwood. Bare shoulders on unwed maidens were hardly the norm in the river valley and the green wood.

"What did you manage to uncover while I was gone?" Glorfindel asked. Morwen may have tried for subtlety in secrets, but Glorfindel had been in political intrigue since before her father's father was born.

"Do you truly believe that I spent the few days you were not here lurking around tree branches in an effort to glean information about the situation in the East?" Morwen asked.

"Yes." Glorfindel answered.

Morwen began to pout but caught herself in the process. "Only because it is a dire situation and I am eager for any news of my friend's health."

"I have no doubt," Glorfindel murmured, "that you received that information days ago and are now biding your time until the opportunity presents itself for you to ride to Mirkwood." His fingers dug into the bare skin of her shoulders as he pulled her protesting body back towards him.

"How were things back home?" Morwen asked, ignoring Glorfindel's comment.

"Elladan has not broken another bone. Elrond is well, if a bit wary of the future. Thandrog is holding his post, with little sign of outward strain. Elrohir is being summoned home. He is to escort Estel on the journey back. I wonder which of the two will come out of that trip unscathed."

Morwen laughed and nuzzled Glorfindel's neck, breathing in his scent.

"Do not try to distract me with your efforts, Morwen," Glorfindel murmured, "I will know all the information you have collected by the end of this night."

"That sure of yourself?" Morwen asked, her lips playing against his throat.

It was dangerous of them, to be so open and intimate around so many elves with discerning ears and eyes. Their affectionate for each other would be an easy thing to twist and manipulate, to use for darker purposes. It was the risk anyone took, when they revealed a deeper caring for someone other than passing affection. Still, the two were surrounded by elves they loved and trusted and were secure in the knowledge that their family would protect them.

"Has Tirnion sent a message to you?" Glorfindel asked.

"Arodeth sent a letter to Eluialeth detailing the situation. Thranduil is using a two-fold plan." Morwen answered.

"Show of support for Lake-town and a march on the Mountain." Glorfindel nodded. "It is as I assumed."

"Now you have confirmation. I have not received details concerning the extents of Gandalf's clearing of the forest." Morwen admitted.

"Gandalf always does a thorough job." Glorfindel laughed, "I remember this one time when.." Spotting Rumil walking into the glade, Glorfindel stopped his story. "Oh, now, what could this mean?"

Rumil was dressed in the robes of the council room. His shoulders were tense and most of the conversation died down in the glade as he made his way towards Glorfindel and Morwen. Rumil reached them and pressed a hand to Glorfindel's shoulder. His eyes were sad and resigned.  
"My Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn summon you to their study." The Lothlorien elf's words were soft, but sure.

"It seems the news of a march has become more definite." Glorfindel said. He stood and held out a hand to Morwen.

"Lady Galadriel only requested you, Lord Glorfindel." Rumil said.

"Mirkwood needs a representative and Rilasseth is in no condition to handle such a manner. Morwen is well acquainted with the royal family and can make informed suggestions on the part of Thranduil's realm." Glorfindel led Morwen out of the glade, ignoring the unsure looks Rumil and Morwen passed between each other.

* * *

Morwen, despite being a long-term friend of Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen, was far from well-acquainted with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. The elves had a way of putting other people on edge. They wore their age and wisdom in a terrifying and condescending manner. Lord Elrond was intimidating at first, but could not help his warm and caring healer's nature. Cirdan was always quick to smile and had lived far too long to spend time impressing people with his knowledge. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn seemed to revel in their power over other people.

The personal quarters of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood were also not a common place for Morwen to pass any sort of time inside. She still was not quite sure what she was doing in these rooms, but Glorfindel had been insistent. At least Rumil seemed as uncomfortable as her. It was good to have someone to exchange uncertain glances with.

"Where is Erestor?" Lady Galadriel asked upon their entrance.

"I saw no reason to bother him with this news." Glorfindel replied. He sauntered around the room with an unconcerned air. Glorfindel continued on, "He needs and deserves a break from his duties."

"How considerate, Glorfindel." Galadriel said.

Celeborn addressed the group without any grand speech. He made his concern known with one small sentence, "Mirkwood marches to war."

Glorfindel laughed and sat down in a seat opposite of the husband and wife. He asked, "The dwarves are taken over by greed and Lake-town lies desolate, how can they not march to war?"

"They could consider less extreme actions." Galadriel said.

"Because the dwarves are just going to hand over portions of a dragon's treasure." Glorfindel muttered.

"We have also taken such forcible actions against the dwarves in the past." A Lothlorien senior councilman said.

"Ellech raises a very interesting point," Glorfindel said, "in that you have fought battles against the dwarves in the past over territory. Now Thranduil does the same and you seem uneager to help him."

Galadriel tensed her back and gave Glorfindel a dark look. She said, "Thranduil's greed is not our concern. The ramifications of his actions, however, are."

"Thranduil's battle could cause our borders to become overtaxed. We cannot have orcs, goblins, or dwarves attempt a siege on our wood." Celeborn said, backing up his wife.

"But a siege on Mirkwood and Lake-town is forgivable." Glorfindel argued.

"Do not speak my words for me, Glorfindel." Galadriel hissed. The temperature in the room seemed to fall with the coldness of her demeanor.

"Sorry, Galadriel, but it seems your mind is already made up before a battle has been declared." Glorfindel said, unapologetic as ever when it came to dealing with the Lady of the Wood.

"I only wish to inform you that if such an action is undertaken, that I cannot allow any to leave these borders to fight in the battle. Especially you, Glorfindel." Galadriel said.

"Why is that?" Glorfindel asked, propping his feet up on an end table and ignoring Galadriel's glare.

"No elf of Imladris will fight; you know the hobbit and the dwarves, your interests are comprised." Celeborn ordered.

"We also know the elves of Mirkwood and Mithrandir." Glorfindel argued.

The Lord the Wood stood and towered over Glorfindel. "You will not go against this decree, Glorfindel." Celeborn insisted.

Glorfindel stayed seated, but even Morwen flinch at the dark tone in which he spoke. "With all due respect, Celeborn, you do not have the authority to decree anything for me."

"This is not our battle to fight. Our presence is not needed there." Celeborn said. He took his seat again.

Morwen wet her lips and moved to speak, ignoring the look Rumil gave her. "Is it not?" Morwen asked. She found herself flinching as three angry gazes were directed at her. "I am sorry to interrupt your bickering, but is it not our responsibility? Whether or not we agree with the motivations of the battle, there are people, allies, out there who need our resources. Mirkwood has a surplus but they cannot afford to protect and provide for their people and the people of Lake-town throughout a long battle and a harsh winter. The people of Lake-town are victims in all of this and deserve our compassion. The laws of hospitality of Imladris mean we must offer aid to Bilbo Baggins, Mithrandir, and the dwarves if they so require it." Morwen took a breath and turned to Galadriel and Celeborn, "This may not be a matter for Lothlorien, but it is a matter for Imladris. You are correct, we are comprised, but those are our friends and allies out there. We cannot, in good conscious, let them fight without some support. Lord Elrond does not need another round of famine and death on his soul, which will happen if the elves of Mirkwood and the people of Lake-town starve and die in this battle. We can help, and more than that, we need to help."

"If you wish to assist Mirkwood, Morwen, with healing the injured, or helping to rebuild Lake-town, I will not protest. However, I caution you against leaving. The rest must stay behind our borders, especially Glorfindel." Galadriel said.

"Again, I must remind you, you do not have the power to command me Galadriel." Glorfindel said.

"Glorfindel, be reasonable. You are far too well-known and renown. Not only will you be seen as an insult to those in the mountains, but many of the elves and humans will be distracted, if not intimidated, by your presence. If you are so thirsty for blood, remnants from the wizard's cleansing of Dol Guldur are attacking along our Eastern borders." Celeborn said.

"You forget, Celeborn, that my family is out there fighting a battle. Loyalty to the blood requires I fight. I think you of all people would honor a blood oath." Glorfindel said.

"You also held an oath to my daughter, did you not?" Celeborn asked.

"No," Glorfindel said, "my oath is to the Line of Turgon. Only his blood, outside of my own, holds such an oath. Do not let the grief for your daughter cut you off from being receptive to others' needs and pain."

"I suggest we all get back to the topic of Mirkwood," Ellech said, "and leave old wounds to be re-opened another day. Glorfindel and Morwen are both correct, my Lord and Lady. Honor requires their presence on the side of Mirkwood and Lake-town. Honor also requires us to do the same. If a full battle breaks out, Mirkwood will hold the line for us, but they cannot hold it alone. If Mirkwood falls, we will be the next target. The battle is a certainty, who will participate in it may still be determined. What we will do must be decided right now."

No one in the room made any response to Ellech's words but it was clear in the tense silence that more than a few elves would be heading out to Mirkwood in the morning.

A/N: I just want to give my immense thanks to everyone who has read this story, and kept on reading it, even though it takes me ages to write. Your warm words and hope for more always bring a smile to my very tired face. Your suggetions are well-received and I am always grateful for them. I did fudge a bit with _The Hobbit_'s canon in this, making Bard go to the meeting with the Elvenking, but in my mind, it would have been a better gesture to gain aid from Mirkwood.


	13. 12a On A March

**Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing with, not for profit.**

A/N: Passages in italics come from The Hobbit chapter "The Gathering of Clouds" and as it is J.R.R. Tolkien's work (or Bilbo Baggins') clearly it does not belong to me.

*********

**A Journey Begins…**

_**Chapter Twelve…On a March**_

_There armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by,  
No pipe did hum nor battle drum did sound its loud tattoo  
But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out through the foggy dew  
_-_The Foggy Dew_, version by The Chieftains

_October, TA 2941_

_**Thranduil's Camp, Between Lake-town and the Lonely Mountain**_

"You are looking well this morning," Thranduil stated as he entered the healing tent.

Tirnion nodded. "My ribs are healed and the ache has gone down. I am well enough to perform my tasks."

Thranduil raised a brow and asked, "Are you certain you and Claurion are well enough for a full march? We plan to pack up the camp and move in intervals. It may be best for you two to stay here and heal a day or more. Or perhaps travel to where the elderly and women and children of Lake-town are attempting to re-build their homes."

"I believe Claurion and I are much better suited to a march than to wielding any tools of carpentry," Tirnion said.

"If you believe that is best," Thranduil said, slapping Tirnion hard on the back and ignoring his grimace. "If you must force yourself to learn this lesson the hard way then I cannot stop you and will quite enjoy the sight. Find your Second and get ready to move out. We start the march at Noon." Thranduil left the tent in a flourish with no attempt to hide the smile on his face.

Tirnion held his head in his hands for just a moment, cursing himself and the disposition and pride inherited from his mother. He slid off his bench, pulled on his tunic and made his way outside to locate Claurion.

*******************

A wasteland stretched out before them. In the near distance the Lonely Mountain stood, a crumbling fortress forever witnessing the changes to the land. It housed dwarves and dragons and now dwarves again. Bard studied the mountain and wondered how the treasures hidden inside such a grim place could inspire greed in so many. Was it truly the dragon's horde that attracted the treasure hunters or just the danger of the journey itself? The glory of the hunt paled in comparison to the hunt for glory.

A battle was coming, a true battle, not a skirmish or the small brawls he knew in his youth. The legends of his childhood and the glorified songs of old were becoming real, forming a new history in front of him. Bard knew how to fight; he had trained his whole life to hunt game and protect his home, but whatever was in the air was something wholly different. He stared at the mountain again and watched the fog descend. The whole scene remained unsettling to a little known archer from lake country.

A voice said, "Fog is rolling over the mountain; it will provide good cover."

Bard studied the elves before him. Their countenances betrayed no sign of weariness or nerves, but he could not help but wonder if under the masks they too were trembling. He could not recall the last time elves fought in battle.

"We fight each day we ride out," a soft voice whispered from his side.

Bard turned to find the she-elf he met days ago, Arodeth, at his side. She wore a sedate brown dress this time, her hair tied back in thick golden and silver braids. She carried two packs, four water skins, and a rolled up tent. Among the elves, even those who did not fight still carried more than their share for the camp. He marveled at the organization of it all and the inherent grace and magic of their species, with their clothes that blended in with the land and their abilities to surmise a person's thoughts before he or she spoke.

She grasped his arm tight and led him away from the road to the mountain. She spoke in soft tones to him, but her words demanded obedience. "You should not project your thoughts so, all elves beyond a certain age will be able to read them. There are many dark creatures who wander this land, Bard, do not give them an advantage inside of your mind."

He studied the hand that held his arm tight. The overall grace of the elves showed in the long fingers and the smooth skin, but calluses still appeared. Arodeth spent time writing and with a bow, as scars and the worn parts of her fingers showed many years of practice. The overall appearance remained deceptive in comparison to the amount of strength inside the elves. It was this contradiction that amused Bard from the first meeting outside of Lake-town to the temporary camp they established, and now onto the march to the mountain. Trying to guess the ages of all the elves around him also provided contemplation and amusement. None ever answered with the amount in years, perhaps forgetting their true age after all this time. Some of the wisest among the group claimed to be among the youngest and many a fool soldier held a veteran status by their age.

"How old are you?" Bard could not help but ask.

Arodeth smiled and replied, "Not so old, yet not so young. I was a babe when Sauron was last in power. I am the eldest of my family."

"What about your parents?"

"First Agers. My mother still clings to her duty in this land, but my father fell long ago. Stragglers of Barad-dur made an example of my father. He came back to us in pieces."

"Does revenge motivate you in this battle?" Bard asked, wondering if all the elves around him had more of a motivation in this fight than addition to the stores of their king.

"Revenge motivates us all. It is that little dark voice which pushes us on, let's greed outweigh honor. I think a little taste of revenge is good, as long as it does not consume you." The grip on her packs tightened with her words, her knuckles turning white. She paused for just a moment and said, "Let us walk on, Bard, for we have much ground to cover before the night falls."

**************

"You look lost in memory, Father."

Thranduil turned to study his youngest son. Legolas was the free spirit of his children; a true child of the wood. He contained the arrogance of all elves, but he also let himself stay open to more of the world. His son thirsted for a larger world, he just did not realize it yet. Thranduil recognized that look as one he once held, long before his own father fell on a battlefield.

"I am, Legolas, it comes with the years I suppose, in considering all I have seen and all I have yet to see," he said.

"This will be your first fight with a wizard at your side, will it not?" Legolas asked.

"The first, and I hope the last. While I trust Mithrandir with your life, and that of our people, I am still wary to have an ally of unknown origin fighting, no matter on which side. All of those wizards, whether they wish us good or ill have something to hide."

Legolas stood beside his father, his head brushing Thranduil's elbow. While not small of stature, few elves stood as tall as Thranduil. Legolas did have an advantage of height over Berenon, but his brother had much broader shoulders thanks to their mother's blood. Still, Legolas learned at a young age that being slim and quick was as much of an advantage as broad and strong. While Legolas would never be able to competently carry a spear like some of the other warriors, he would always remain one of the best in regards to archery and the equestrian pursuits. Thranduil knew that Legolas hoped to carry on in his footsteps when it came to the mental capabilities that so many outsiders misidentified as magic. Yet, despite all the experience his father held, he still stood on this hill and turned a troubled eye to the horizon. Legolas grasped his father's hand tight and held him for a moment. Giving him strength in such a tense and uncertain moment.

Thranduil smiled down at his son. "Do you know why your mother insisted on the name Legolas?"

Legolas shook his head. "I do not recall ever hearing that story."

"I admit, it seems a fitting name for a child of a Woodland king. That was not the reason for the choice. Your mother's favorite season is spring, even though she will never admit such a thing to Glorfindel, for fear of upsetting him."

"Even after all these years?"

"Especially after all these years. Still, your mother wanted to name you after something which reminded her of spring, a new life, something which brings hope through the harsh winter. A green leaf in more than just name," Thranduil sighed, "I do wonder what your mother would do if she knew that I am putting you on a battlefield."

"If I know her well, I know she would have marched up to that mountain already and dragged all of the dwarves out by their beards," Legolas said.

The laughter of the Elvenking echoed through the ranks, causing many to stop in their tasks and share in the joy between father and son.

*****************************

The combined forces of the elves and the warriors of Lake-town made a slow advancement towards the mountain. Thranduil informed all that they would set up a temporary camp closer to the mountain before choosing a spot to break ground for a long battle. The idea was to travel halfway and stop at nightfall, but the lack of progress due to slower creatures and more baggage hindered Thranduil's planned advancement. The flying spies above them also left him contemplating a whole different set of tactics.

"Is it just me," Arodeth asked, "or does there appear to be higher than normal flights of ravens and crows in this land?"

"Is it not just you," Thranduil assured her, "they are spies, of course." Ravens and crows were good to have on one's side and horrible to have against. Two temporary camps then. They would stop before nightfall this night, he made a signal to Legolas and the other elves under his son's command.

"Who uses birds as spies?" Glauverior asked. "Besides us, of course."

"Agents of the Dark Lord," Glovien answered, "some branches of the Race of Men, and of course, the dwarves who once occupied that mountain." The warrior gestured to the Lonely Mountain in the horizon. The mountain seemed far away for a mortal's eyes, but to the sharp eyes of the elves more and more detail revealed itself with each step closer.

Thranduil nodded his head at Glovien words. "I am sure old Roӓc still flies about in those caverns. Those ravens are so long-lived. I do not dislike the creatures, they hold a certain beauty and will tell tales for hours, but I prefer the grace of the eagles."

"Like all elves," Lothon said, gripping tighter at the bow hanging on his shoulder with the eagles carved into its arms.

"Not _all_ elves," Glovien said, "Tirnion knows many a story about how nightingales are revered in Imladris, even before the birth of the Lady Arwen."

"Cirdan's people also hold a great love for gulls and the albatross, but those are birds unfamiliar to those of us who reside in the woods. Though I do believe Elrond has his own fair share of seafaring birds to deal with, who decide to stop by the Bruinen for a drink and a wash," Thranduil said.

"I have heard of the gulls, but what on Arda is an albatross?" Glovien asked.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Glovien, unless you plan on boarding a ship anytime soon. If you do, I pray you, if a bird of an immense size lands on your deck, let it be and bring to it no harm." Thranduil smiled to himself as he remembered all the tales Cirdan told of his time on the sea, and the one Glorfindel shared from his own time around many a sailor and mariner. Thranduil surveyed the area. "We will stop here for the night and wait for the warriors of Lake-town to catch up with us."

"And our handful of injured elves," Arodeth muttered.

Glovien laughed, "True. They both should have known better than to do such heavy lifting so soon after injuries to the rib cage." She noted the height of the sun and the moon in the sky, "I think it would be best if we settled closer to the mountain under the cover of night."

"Yes, that will best, but we must set up here first and rest for a day or two, let those spies give the dwarves a false sense of our timing." Thranduil studied the sky and said, "Besides, I am expecting a guest."

"How will your guest know where to find us?" Lothon asked.

"He always knows," Thranduil said, a wide smile on his face.

**************

Arodeth's night was spent walking from tent to tent in order to prepare all the tents for a large meeting. Thranduil remained his enigmatic self when it came to the matter of states and just insisted that they were to keep the temporary camp for a few more nights. One of the black squirrels traveling far off their path brought Tirnion news of a special guest coming and the hint that another member of royalty or a warrior of great would soon arrive set gossip throughout the whole camp. Arodeth knew Thranduil remained aware of their soon to arrive guest but only allowed Arodeth a half hour to prepare him for something along the lines of an official council.

"With all due respect, my King, will you please sit still," Arodeth said. Her attempts to put the proper warrior braids in the Woodland King's hair kept failing. Thranduil remained eager in his desire to plan a full strategy and spend most of his hours walking from tent to tent to gather materials. Arodeth followed his path through it all, trying her best to garb him in the proper way of an elven warrior.

"Arodeth, I am sorry. I just envy Elrond and all his maps during these times. Our are so out of date that we must gather all current accounts of the paths and draw a whole new set." Thranduil took his seat and placed his chin in his hand. "Your mother's said for ages that those maps needed an update. We were always more concerned about the other parts of the wood. I never thought so much would change that the old paths would be blocked."

"I am certain no one imagined a dragon bursting out of the mountain-side and causing rocks to tumble and block the path," Arodeth said. She quickly worked her fingers through his hair. Thranduil never sat still for long."

"Yes, your brother probably rues the day he walked up that mountain path."

"He's taken his fair share of tumbles. Remember the time when Mother was in the process of re-thatching a part of our hold barn and Tirnion fell right through the roof?"

"Ah, yes, the incident with the manure. I do believe Tholinnas holds the blame for that one."

"No one ever guesses how mischievous Tholinnas is; he always remained quiet in the face of his siblings more overt temperament."

"For all our grandstanding, my family does have a tradition of mischief to maintain." Thranduil patted Arodeth's shoulder in thanks and moved over to the table. "Please go rouse your brother from his healing bed, and Claurion as well. I need to gather their information, along with that of Legolas."

"Where is the youngest prince?"

"Up in the tree above this ten, taking measurements of the land. Oh, and Arodeth please prepare one of the great tent for a large gathering. Please also go through the rations to find food that will please the citizens of Lake-town among us."

***********

"It may have been too soon for us to march," Tirnion admitted as he sat in the quickly erected healing tent. The fabric still flapped in the evening light as the elves hurried to tie it down.

"Really?" Claurion asked. He grimaced as the healer wrapped his bindings around his chest. "Whatever could have given you that idea?"'

"I believe the inability to carry the cargo more than three hundred feet and having it collapse on us was the first clue," Tirnion said, leaning his sore back against the smooth material of the tent.

"Honestly, I thought the inability to run or ride should have warned you before anything else," Claurion said.

Tirnion waved his hands in a dismissive gesture and closed his eyes against the nausea welling up in his stomach. He blindly turned to his second and said, "It was either march or build huts and I think we can both agree that even injured I can better wield a sword than a hammer."

"True," Claurion gasped as the final binding pulled too tight, "But I believe our reinjured ribcages disagree."

Claurion paused in his complaints as a commotion sounded outside the tent. He could make out some snickers and laughter, a quick barked order and then the sound of the tent flap being thrown back as an elf marched inside.

"Oh, there you two are," Glovien said as she entered the tent. She bit her lip as she studied the two elves, noting the bruises on their bodies, the new injuries and the general disarray of their hair and clothing. She pressed a hand to her own perfect braids before stating, "The King is looking for you; we are updating the maps with information gathered from the scouts. We are to pull the lead warriors from Lake-town into the discussion in the main tent."

Tirnion let his head drop down and took a quick breath. "He wants us to make a grand entrance, doesn't he?"

Glovien nodded, "If only to impress upon the men of Lake-town that elves can at once be both commanding and mad as rabbits."

"I think they already know that," Tirnion gasped out as he forced himself to stand. He called for one of their chief healers, "Tollureth?"

Tollureth walked back into the tent and asked, "Yes, my ever ungraceful Captain?"

"I need your great skill to tie my bandages tight again yet still give me freedom to move."

"I will do my best," she said, "but first let me call for some looser tunics so you will not have to move your arms too much."

"Leave it," Tirnion said, "we need to make an entrance and what better way to shock the men of Lake-town than to appear in nothing but bandages and leggings."

"What, no boots?" Tollureth asked.

"Oh, boots indeed," Claurion said as he too forced himself up, "let them think us mad but not uncivilized."

"I eagerly await your entrance," Glovien called as she left the tent, giving a wave to Tollureth.

"We really should send her somewhere for a decade," Claurion said, "she is becoming far too smart-mouthed."

"Oh, please send her to Imladris," Tollureth said, sweetly."

"No!" Tirnion cried. "The last thing she needs is lessons from Erestor, Morwen, and Eluialeth on how to be even more smug. Now, let us get to those bandages, shall we."

"If you insist," Tollureth said, with a dark gleam in her eyes.

*******************

Bard stood at the back of the tent and watched the proceedings before him. The elves babbled back and forth to each other, their voices raised in excited inquiry. Two elves seemingly took in the accounts of the others while they constructed a new map of the area. Commotion arose as more elves stumbled into the tent. Bard did not understand the language, but he easily recognized the laughter and teasing directed at the two new arrivals and he took a moment to study the new subjects of attention. Bard surmised the elves were male, from their flat bare chests wrapped in bindings. Both bore fading bruises and scratches. The elves stood at similar heights, however one had a more broad build. The slimmer one's hair appeared silver while the other held a more wheat like color, but it was difficult to tell in the low light inside the tent. The two elves ducked their heads for a moment before shouting back replies that left quite a few more ducked heads and blushing elves.

"Now," said the slimmer elf, the Common Tongue making a lilting sound with his accent, "let us speak in a tongue most of our guests recognize. This land is more familiar to them and they may know some hidden paths we have overlooked. For those among us who d o not speak the Common Tongue or the dialect of Lake-town, then those of us who can will translate. We must all learn to communicate for this battle to result in success. Glauverior," the elf gestured to one of the others drawing the map, "is constructing a system of hand signals for us to use."

"Our Captain speaks the truth," the other elf said. "Now will all the men amongst us please introduce themselves."

Bard felt the call of authority from the other men, "I am Bard of Esgaroth and serve as a representative of my people."

"You are the one who shot down the dragon?" The second elf asked.

Bard nodded, "It was quite a fortuitous shot."

"Fortuitous?" The elf laughed. "That was more than some dumb luck, my mortal friend, that took great skill. I only ask for some of the dragon hide."

"You desire a trophy?"

"Hardly, I just need proof to bring home to my wife that there really was a dragon involved," he replied.

Bard laughed and noted with surprise the undignified snickers that rose up from those who understood the Common Tongue and the other that arose once it was repeated in Mirkwood's tongue. Bard bit back a guffaw as the first elf smacked the second on the back of his head.

"That is my sister you speak of, Claurion."

"With all due respect, Captain, your family is not known for its sympathy."

"Then one would think you would stop mocking it in front of both me and your wife's sister."

"Indeed," Arodeth interjected from her place at the table.

Bard knew this act was to put everyone at ease, offsetting the gravity of the situation with their humor. The elves, such mythical creatures, did seem to enjoy being the source of amusement for all.

"Bard," the elf indentified as the captain said, "please come to our side." He turned his head to one of the elves standing at the entrance. The rapid cadence of the words led Bard to believe it was an order, the nod of the head and his quick departure from the tent confirmed his suspicions. The captain turned back to Bard, "He is going to get us food and drink along with clothing for myself and Claurion," he held out a hand, "I am honored to meet you, Bard the Bowman"

"Thank you for your kind praise." Bard took his hand. "May I ask what I am to call you, Captain?"

"Tirnion is best and the least confusing." Tirnion shook his head as some of the elves laughed, "I am both seneschal and captain of the guard."

"But, you are so young," Bard said.

Tirnion laughed. "In some ways, but a warrior born and bred and for many centuries as such on Arda."

"Is that why you speak the Common Tongue so well?"

"Oh no, I am afraid that is more a necessary skill in order to walk the halls of Imladris, which you call Rivendell."

"The Rivendell? The Great Half-elven Elrond's home? You have been there?" Bard asked.

"He lived there until recently," Claurion said.

"It was only a short visit," Tirnion protested.

"Even for elves, ten years is more than a short visit," Claurion said.

"Claurion, should you not be outlining the water border so Glauverior can properly add in the land mass scale?" Tirnion smiled at Bard's look, "Even an elf's life is too short to live in misery. Find joy where it is to be found and revel in it while pushing the annoyances of life to the side." Tirnion pressed a hand to his shoulder, "Now, what trails do your people use to gather falcon eggs?"

Bard walked with Tirnion over to the table and studied the map before him. The progress made was amazing, a task that took weeks for his people took hours for these elves.

"You must remember we require less rest," Tirnion said, "and to stop comparing your abilities to ours. We all have strengths and weaknesses, Bard, and on this battle field we are all equal."

Bard nodded, soothed by the musical cadence of Tirnion's voice. He gave a closer study to the largest map laid out before them; its color yellowed and its corners curled from age. He placed a finger to one of the highest hunting paths, accessible only through a quick maneuver through a grove of trees.

"There is a path through the grove of trees here which leads to a high pass, though it is narrow and steep. It requires sure footing and quick eyes."

Arodeth looked up from the small map she was working on. "That means Tirnion and Claurion are forbidden from that path."

Bard's own laughter was lost in the sound around him.

********************

Tirnion walked the perimeter of their temporary camp, watching the horizon as dusk fell. He felt a whisper of wind and turned to find Thranduil beside him.

"Should you not be in a tent handing out orders?" Tirnion asked.

Thranduil smiled. "I wish to be a normal foot soldier, if only for a moment."

Tirnion gestured to Thranduil's forehead. "Then I suggest you remove your crown," he said.

Thranduil raised a hand and traced the metal resting on his brow. "I must confess," he said, "I often forget it is there. Such a familiar weight and for so long borne."

"Yet done so well," Tirnion said.

"You have no need to gain my favor, Tirnion, I assure you it is already earned" Thranduil said.

"I only wish to remind you that despite all the rumors which paint you as a cold-hearted ruler who will do anything for more jewels including war-mongering and use any and all advantages before you that your people follow your rule with trust and pride," Tirion stated.

Thranduil patted his shoulder and laughed, reaching up a hand to ruffle Tirnion's hair. "I suggest we return to the camp before your sister sends out a search party."

Tirnion nodded and started to follow Thranduil. He turned to give the horizon one last look. "How long do you think they can stay up there?" Tirnion asked.

Thranduil shrugged. He said, "Dwarves are stubborn creatures. If they find any hidden passageways out then we are in for a very long fight. Dwarves guard their gold with their lives."

Tirnion sighed and shook his head. "It seems a lot of trouble for a few baubles."

"It is currency, a good bit of currency, and also a matter of pride and entitlement. All of us have things we will defend to our last breath, outside of our land and family," Thranduil said.

"Will it be worth the cost in the end, I wonder?" Tirnion mused.

Thranduil threw an arm around his shoulder. "You know it will in so ways and will not in so many others. Now let us rest for the night. I feel more news will come with the night."

*******

A night-and-a-half in the temporary camp and Bard had spent it all discussing maps and strategies with the elves. The hand signals designed by Glauverior were coming along nicely but most of the elves and men were reduced to pointing and shouting, as if exaggerating their gestures or raising their voices would make them better understood. It was difficult, trying to reach an understanding between people whose native tongues were old dialects of much greater languages. Most had a basic grasp of the main words and phrases of the Common Tongue, but the elves did not seem to know much of Lake-town's language and Arodeth had informed Bard that the little elvish his people knew was so antiquated it would only be recognized by the lore lovers and scholars among her people.

"Bard, you are summoned to King Thranduil's tent," Arodeth said. She gestured in the direction of the tent before moving to another, her arms laden down with books and parcels.

Bard would have offered his aid to her, but Arodeth made it very clear that she was more than capable of carrying items on her own. Or, at least, that's what Bard assumed after the long tirade she gave on the view of males towards any female who does not regularly carry a bow or a sword as a professional warrior. Bard was not brave enough to inform her that among his people, no woman ever did such a thing.

As Bard made his way through the camp, he spied an old man sitting by one of the Elvenking's tents. Bard approached the old fellow, wondering who let one of the elders come through on the march.

"My dear sir," Bard said, "should you not be back at the village site?"

The old man shrugged, his dusty grey robe swaying with the movement. "Young lad," the old man's weary voice rang out, "I assure you I am right where I need to be at this time. Though a visit to your village site does not lie outside the realm of my future possibilities."

Bard gave the man a closer study, noting his walking stick, wide-brimmed hat and long grey beard. "You are not from Lake-town," Bard surmised.

"Good to know some members of the youth of Men are able to make logical deductions." The old man raised his head and gave Bard a smile. "Do not worry yourself so, young Bard, I promise I am expected. By more than one person here, I should say."

"Who are you?" Bard asked.

"A very complex and difficult question not to be shared so late an hour. Who I am, alas, is not the question you truly ask. You wish to know what I am called, an equally difficult though less complex question. In this camp most will refer to me as Mithrandir, a general elvish term meaning 'grey pilgrim,' but you may know me as the Men of the North call me."

"And that is?"

"Gandalf the Grey."

"You," Bard looked at the frail man in front of him, "you are the Grey Wanderer?"

Gandalf stood and tipped his hat at Bard. "Young Bard, appearances can be, and often are, deceiving. Never rely are just what your eyes tell you, especially when you are surrounded by mischievous wood elves."

**************

Tension filled the tent, along with whispers and the sharpening of quills and knives. Tirnion looked up from the map before him to place everyone in the room. Claurion was kneeling on the floor, a large map in front of him, pointing out various landmarks to Bard and having Arodeth write down Bard's responses. Mithrandir stood next to Thranduil, smoking on his pipe and debating plans of actions. Few others remained in the tent after Thranduil's long meeting. The sense of official state business had faded into that of military actions and while the occupants no longer stood so stiffly in formal clothes and posture, the urgent need to form a plan which involved the least number of casualties for both sides dogged everybody inside.

Tirnion looked back to the table and studied the borders on the map. Glovien had placed a dark cloud over the drawing of the Lonely Mountain and it was not the only ominous thing about the land before them. The narrow pass up to the mountain and the many opportunities for trapped entrances and exits meant a dangerous and treacherous ground to cover. Their archers could only do so much.

"We are going to lose elves," Tirnion murmured more to himself than anyone else.

"We will," Thranduil agreed from the other end of the table. "The men will lose men; the dwarves will lose dwarves; the wizard..."

"The wizard will lose nothing," Mithrandir said. "Not this time."

Tirnion smiled and raised his gaze to Mithrandir. "You cleared my woods out?" Tirnion asked.

"I did," Mithrandir answered with a jaunty nod.

"Do you not mean _my_ woods?" Thranduil asked.

Mithrandir laughed and put some more of that vile smoking weed in his pipe. He looked up at the two elves and said, "I know an Ent or two would object to the wood being claimed by any elf, much less you two."

"Better elf than dwarf," Arodeth called from Claurion's side.

"Yes, we rarely if ever cut down living trees and always apologize when we must put nails and hooks in the living ones," Claurion said.

"And for that the elves are beloved to all the trees," Mithrandir said.

Bard studied the occupants of the tent with a confused gaze. "You speak as if the trees can talk back to you."

Arodeth scoffed, "Of course the trees talk back." She shook her head and took up her quill again, "Silly mortal man, thinking the trees cannot talk."

Claurion patted Bard's leg and said, "I understand it is no longer a common thing for your people to communicate with all the living beings around you, but I assure you the trees do talk and not only to us. This is why you must always be careful of what you say. Someone or something is always listening and watching. It is not just the birds of the wolves, but the trees, the winds, the water."

"Everything has a voice," Mithrandir agreed, "few can hear them. Elves are only so good at it because they live so long in this world and need to find something other than themselves with whom to talk. I dread to think what would happen if they were left all to their own."

Tirnion watched as Bard studied Mithrandir for a moment, trying to discern whether or not the wizard spoke the truth. Bard must have come to a fitting conclusion because he merely nodded and went back to studying the map in front of him.

Thranduil shook his head at the group. "Bard, Claurion, Arodeth, everyone please come around the time." He paused only long enough for everyone to gather."After tomorrow's day of rest, we will move at night. The elves will move the camp first, because we are used to walking under the cover of night. Therefore, we will take the people of Lake-town during the daylight," Thranduil gestured to Bard, "and hide you within our elven tents which blend in with the nature around us. We ask you to please stay in these tents until we arrive. We do not want to reveal our location before it is necessary."

"You want us to stay in tents for hours on end?" Bard asked.

"The tents will connect to each other and you will be allowed to make small trips on the side not facing the Lonely Mountain," Tirnion said.

"If you plan to reveal our location before we fight, why must we stay hidden?" Boyd, one of the Lake-town men asked from Bard's side.

Thranduil answered, "It is much better to reveal the size of our army with a complete camp than with the scrambling construction of one. The flying spies, which we all know are taking news to the dwarves, do not fly at night and that is why we must construct the camp during these hours. We see much better in the night and we need little light to work. For your safety alone we must move you during the daylight, though we will welcome all of your help as we work through the night." Thranduil looked around the room and asked, "Any questions?" At the silence which met him and nodded to Tirnion and left the tent, Mithrandir and Arodeth following behind.

Tirnion gestured to both Bard and Glauverior and said, "Please, inform your people and rest for the night. We will set out again in the morning." Tirnion watched the tent empty out until only Claurion stood beside him.

"Do you think it a good plan?" Claurion asked.

"I think it is the best plan we can conceive with all the unknown variables concerning the dwarves. We will have a better plan once the first contingent rides out to speak with them," Tirnion said. He walked over to the lamps and began to douse the lights.

"The men of Lake-town will feel insulted by this plan, as if we are coddling them," Claurion said.

"They may soon come to realize the wisdom in not revealing all at once. I feel that the first visit to the dwarves will change many minds," Tirnion said.

Claurion held the flap to the tent open as Tirnion doused the final flame.

"We shall see in two days hence," Claurion murmured into the night.

*****************

Two days passed and the new camp set up, despite the discontent rumblings of the people from Lake-town. Thranduil ordered a small group of elves and men to approach the Lonely Mountain and attempt a negation for a meeting with the dwarves.

Claurion noted that the men who marched with them as if prepared for an armed fight but most of the elves heeded Thranduil's order to only carry light arms.

"Is this wise?" Bard asked.

"We have no other choice," Lothon said, tightening his grip on his bow.

It took two hours to reach the start of the mountain pass from their camp. They kept a sedate and formal pace, made even slower but the Lake-town men unfamiliar with an elven march. Claurion halted the group and studied the area, Bard at his side. Bard surveyed the mountain before them and turned to Claurion with a nod.

"Let us take a closer look," Claurion suggested.

The group walked forward but their progress stopped as they stared down into the pool at the base of the mountain, staring in shock at the Front Gate.

"It's," Bard stared, "it's blocked. How is it blocked? Was it blocked when you were last here?"

"Is this some sort of elvish joke?" One of the men, Reeve, asked as he pointed at the sight before them.

"I assure you, it is not," Glovien said. "This is new work."

"They have blocked off the gate; quite a good tactical move," Glauverior noted.

"But how could they do it so fast?" Lothon asked.

Glovien shook her head in disgust and replied in elvish, "Did you miss that whole discussion, march, and planning meeting where we talked about fighting a group of _dwarves_?"

"What did she say?" Reeve asked

"She made a biting remark on Lothon's lack of intelligence in regard to the fact that we are fighting dwarves who if, nothing else, are great builders," Claurion said.

"Claurion," Glovien called, "look up into that opening in the mountain."

Claurion laughed softly as he looked at the mountain then turned back to the group. He said, "On your best honor, everyone, we are being watched."

"Suggestions?" Bard asked, squinting his eyes to discern just what the elves were gesturing at.

Claurion smiled at him and said, "We are being watched from the inside. They most likely watched our progress since we revealed the camp last night. I suggest we wait here until they make a move." Claurion walked over to Bard and adjusted his gaze. Gesturing with the eyesight of his bow he said, "If you had elf eyes you would see the gap in the wall there, where they watch us."

"Should you be revealing the knowledge of such a fact through telling gestures?" Bard asked while he gave the elf an incredulous look.

"They know we are here, we know they are inside there, nothing for either one of us to give away," Claurion replied. His voice remained calm and smooth but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

A loud voice carried out from the rock in the Common Tongue, _"Who are you, that come as if in war to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain, and what do you desire?"_

Glauverior gestured for a majority of the party to fall back, ignoring the whispers from both the men and elves who did not understand the words of the dwarf. It had to be a dwarf, as few other creatures on Arda held such guttural tones to their voices.

"Shall we reply?" Bard asked.

Claurion shook his head in the negative and answered, "We do not have the time, and I do not have the patience, to list all of King Thranduil's titles in a proper response to that declaration. They are waiting for a fight but we must first take this new-found information of the ground layout back to the King and Mithrandir before we make a move. Let us observe for some time more though, before we head back to the camp."

"Why?" Reeve asked.

Claurion turned to the man and smirked. "To give them something to talk about, of course. It must be dreadfully born stuck inside that mountain, with the damp and the lack of warmth or food."

"You elves are planning something more, aren't you?" Bard asked.

"Bard," Claurion said as he placed an arm around his shoulder's, "elves are always planning something."

Bard exchanged bewildered glances with Reeve before shrugging at Claurion's antics and the laughter that seemed to overtake all the elves. They waited outside for a few hours more, returning to the camps and smaller and smaller numbers before Claurion finally called the last group to gather and return. The march back went much quicker, with the smaller numbers and the lack of a formal pace. Some of the elves took to a swift run, as if a dark one was on their heels.

"Do not be so worried," Glovien said as she spied Bard's face, "it is a long-standing contest between Glauverior and Lothon to see who could manage to reach home first."

"Who is winning?" Reeve asked.

"Lothon by three races," Glovien answered.

As they approached the camp, Lothon increased his winnings by one more and the men of Lake-town were quite amused by the antics of the elves. Glovien gestured for Bard to follow her, so her bid goodnight to Reeve and walked behind the elves in the ever complex set of cloth tunnels that was the tent of the camps.

Glovien pulled back the flap of an indiscriminate tent and Bard was surprised to see that King Thranduil and some of his advisors stood inside, as did Mithrandir. Tirnion was also there, some twigs in his hair and fallen leaves clinging to the russet colored uniform her wore. He turned from his conversation with King Thranduil as Bard and Glovien entered and signaled them to come forward.

"I suggest we move the camp east of the river as it allow us easier entry to the mountain," Mithrandir said.

"I concur," Thranduil said.

"As do I," Bard agreed. He studied the group before him in confusion, "Is that why Claurion sent the groups back in intervals, so you could form a strategy?"

"Partly," Tirnion admitted, "but Claurion was relaying information to us from the moment you set foot out of the camp. The older and gifted elves among us have special ways of communicating in times such as these."

Bard nodding in understanding, though he really did not, and waited until King Thranduil asked him for his own feelings about the situation. He only hoped the call would come soon as it had been a long day and Bard was eager for his bedroll.

*******************************

Thranduil watched Bard leave the tent before he turned to his elves. "Now, would you all like to inform me of the additional things you observed?"

"It will not be easy for less agile creatures to attempt a run on the mountain," Glovien said, "elves and a few of the more graceful men may be able to fight there but the dwarves have settled in for a long while."

"They way they are positioned provides them with access to water, and with the birds on their side, they have creatures able to deliver them some sustenance," Claurion said.

"Still, it must be cold and damp in there, even for dwarves," Lothon said, "I think it might be best to draw them out, or at least make the attempt."

Thranduil smiled and said, "Lothon, I do believe you are correct." *********

Tirnion tried to bite back his laughter as he decided the countenances of the people from Lake-town. Thranduil had discarded the stealth strategy of before and encouraged his elves to make as much as spectacle of themselves as possible. Even if the men of Lake-town did not understand the words, Tirnion was sure they recognized a drunken rendition of a bawdy song when they heard one.

"In all my years of walking Arda, I do not think I have ever seen someone attempt to sing an enemy out," Mithrandir said, his pipe clenched between his teeth.

Tirnion shrugged. "We already know the dwarves are attracted to our music and song due to their actions as they traveled the Old Forest Road; this seemed a logical choice."

"Do you honestly believe they will come out of their fortress?" Mithrandir asked.

"I doubt it," Tirnion said, "but it is worth an effort and at least people in our camp will find some solace in an uncertain night."

Mithrandir nodded at his words and sat back, leaning against a tree. "Why did you not go on the march up there?" Mithrandir asked.

"Thranduil thought it best for me to stay down here," Tirnion answered.

"He thought it best for you to stay hidden, you mean. You and Legolas followed them did you not? Swift run and hide through the trees, I take it?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny such assumptions. I will only say that yes, I have taken a swift run and hide through those trees before," Tirnion answered, his gaze falling on the King's youngest son. Legolas led Arodeth in a rousing dance and Tirnion was glad to see his sister forget her duty if only for a moment. A harsh sound pulled Tirnion out of his thoughts. "Do you hear that?" he asked Mithrandir.

Mithrandir tilted his head to the side. "Dwarven song, an acquired taste," Mithrandir said.

Tirnion sighed and stood up, brushing off the dirt from his leggings. "I must report this. I bid you a goodnight, Mithrandir," Tirnion said.

"Tirnion," Mithrandir called.

"Yes?"

Mithrandir studied him for a moment and blew out a puff of smoke. "It will be a long journey for you yet, my boy, but never forget that once found certain things should not be let go. No matter how long they take."

"Your words of advice are always welcomed," Tirnion said. With one final nod he went out into the gathering to locate Thranduil. He found him far removed from the campfires and the dancing, towards the trees and the darkness of the forest.

"The dwarves have started to sing in response, King Thranduil," Tirnion reported.

Thranduil took in the information with a dark smile on his face. "Oh, the pride of the dwarves," he said in an amused tone. "Tirnion?"

"Yes, Sire?" Tirnion asked.

Thranduil turned from his contemplation of the forest. "Take a company in the morning, full regalia, and parlay," he ordered.

Tirnion nodded, "Shall I take some of Bard's people as well?" he asked.

"Yes, have Bard do the talking. The options may sound better coming from him than from us." Thranduil paused for a moment to listen to the sounds of elvish merrymaking. "You may want to pull your best warriors now, before they get too deep into their cups."

"It may yet be too late for that," Tirnion confessed, "but I may be able to stop it before it gets any worse."

"See to it you do then," Thranduil said. "Is Mithrandir still out there?"

"I last left him smoking his pipe and speaking in riddles not a moment ago," Tirnion said.

"Life as ever normal then," Thranduil murmured and turned back to the forest.

***************

Morning came with bright light and more than a few headaches for both men and elves. The entrance of the camp was filled with the members of the march, though many were still a-bed in the early light of dawn.

Bard looked around at the company of elves. Archers, spearman and regular infantry stood, all bearing the green and browns of Mirkwood. The standard bearers stood tall, and if he hadn't witnessed their arming, he never would have guessed knives and daggers hid under their ceremonial clothes. His own people from Lake-town and the surrounding areas of Esgaroth tried to measure up, but clearly lacked in comparison.

"Do not look so distraught," Claurion said, "we do have centuries of experience over you."

"How are we to lead this march?" Bard asked.

"Right up the front gate," Tirnion said, stepping out of the King's tent in his full regalia.

"And I am to do the speaking?" Bard asked, still uncertain of the orders King Thranduil gave him in the earliest hours of the morning.

"It might sound better coming from you," Tirnion said, "as you have a more valid grievance. Do not worry, we will be with you the whole way."

Bard nodded and motioned his own standard bearer forward.

"Ready?" Claurion asked.

Bard nodded his assent.

"March!" Tirnion ordered. The call repeated many times over in more than one language.

Bard did his best to focus on the mountain before him. He did not pass judgment or observance on the elves to his side or the men behind him. He knew the elves walked at a pace far too slow for their comfort but slow enough to let the mortals keep a steady stride. It was a shorter march since yesterday but it still took time due to the full regalia. They climbed over the rocks and obstacles blocking the way until Tirnion motioned for a halt at the front of the Gate. The only movement in the whole rank came from the wind wiping the green banner of Mirkwood and the blue banner of Lake-town.

Bard stood aligned with Tirnion, not uttering a word. Tirnion motioned for all to stand still and quiet. Only a short moment later, the harsh voice from yesterday called out again.

"_Who are you that come armed for war to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain?"_

At Tirnion's gesture, Bard moved forward. He took a deep breath and answered in a resolute voice, _"Hail Thorin! Why do you fence yourself like a robber in this hold? We are not yet foes, and we rejoice that you are alive beyond our hope. We came expecting to find none living here; yet now that we are met there is matter for a parley and a council._

No answer came and Bard passed a glance back to Tirnion who motioned for him to wait.

"_Who are you, and of what would you parley?"_ the voice asked.

Bard held his head high and answered, _"I am Bard, and by my hand was the dragon slain and your treasure delivered. Is that not a matter that concerns you? Moreover I am by right descent heir of Girion of Dale, and in your hoard is mingled much of the wealth of his halls and towns, which of old Smaug stole. Is not that a matter of which we may speak? Further in his last battle, Smaug destroyed the dwellings of the men of Esgaroth, and I am yet the servant of their Master. I would speak for him and ask whether you have no thought for the sorrow or misery for the people. They aided you in your distress, and in recompense you have thus far brought ruin only, though doubtless undersigned?"_

***************

"And how did the dwarf reply to that little speech of yours?" Thranduil asked after the company returned to the camp.

"Despite our rights of inheritance and our grievances we have no claim on Smaug's treasure and because we threatened force they do not feel the need to justly compensate the people of Lake-town for their earlier aid," Bard answered.

Thranduil turned to Tirnion, "Yet people still view me as the worst of all evils in this area."

"You do have a tendency to threaten people by stating you will close your large stone doors on them," Tirnion said.

"That was only once and that mortal deserved it," Thranduil sighed in disgust, "honestly, trying to present the 'true word of the Valar.' If that child every saw a Vala in his life he'd wet himself. Wake me up from my first peaceful rest in ages to spout some drivel about the 'true path,' I have hair ties older than that…"

"My King, your face is turning red," Arodeth cautioned.

"Sorry," Thranduil said. He waved his wine glass at Bard. "Continue, please."

"The dwarves also refuse to dealing with us because we associated ourselves with you and your people. They then threatened us with arrows which, unless I can misinterpret the sound of laughter, I believe your people found quite humorous. We gave him an ultimatum and stated that we will return later and give them some time to think over their words."

"The dwarves will not concede to defeat, in that I must offer some respect as they are a worthy adversary. I will send some of my men tonight to receive the dwarves' answer," Thranduil said.

"Should some of my men not go as well?" Bard asked.

"No offense is meant by my next statement, Bard, but your men cannot see a shot in the dark and I will be sending my elves with shields," Thranduil answered.

"Would they really fire on a messenger?" Reeve asked from Bard's side.

"If they perceive the messenger as a threat? Of course. Civilized rules of combat disappeared after the defeat of Sauron. Little is sacred on the battlefield anymore and we must find and uphold honor wherever we can. Even if they shoot on my elves tonight, we will not shoot back. Can I say the same for your people, if I send them in?" Thranduil asked.

"No; not if they cannot see where the threat is coming from," Bard admitted and Reeve nodded in agreement.

"Therefore it is better to send my elves, who will make sure no blood is shed this night and that we can proceed ahead with this battle with some form of honor still intact."

******

Bard sat in his tent, sharpening his arrow points. King Thranduil's contingent apparently returned less than an hour previous and yet no one had updated the men of Lake-town with the response of the dwarves.

"Bard," Arodeth said, pulling aside the flap of his tent, "King Thranduil wishes to speak with you."

Bard nodded to Reeve and Thatcher, putting his sharpening tools aside. He followed Arodeth across the camp to one of the larger tents. Thranduil stood inside with his son, Legolas, carrying a shield with an arrow stuck in the middle.

"He shot at you then?" Bard asked.

"I did my level best to be polite," Legolas said.

Bard shook his head and asked, "So do we march to war tomorrow?"

Thranduil stood up from his seat and approached Bard. "Yes and no, Legolas declared the mountain besieged, but this does not mean bloodshed is yet required."

"There are many tactics with which a full on battle can be delayed," Legolas said. He turned to his father and asked, "Shall I send word back to Berenon?"

"Please do," Thranduil said. He then spoke something else to Legolas in their native tongue which made both elves smile and laugh. Bard watch as Legolas heaved up his shield and left the tent, whistling some sort of elvish tune.

"I do not know if I could let my child fight," Bard admitted.

Thranduil patted his shoulder before going back to the make-shift desk in the tent. Thranduil took up a quill and said, "He is my youngest, which makes it a bit more difficult, but Legolas has a way of making friends with many a creature. He holds much innocence in his heart, which some may mistake for a weakness. Still, I would not delight in becoming his enemy and I admire his ability to still feel wonder at the world."

"How old are you?" Bard asked.

"Older than the first foundations of your home," Thranduil said, "So old I stopped counting an Age ago."

Bard for once took a moment to study the tent. It was not the type Bard would expect for the well-known ostentatious Elvenking. Grass and dirt served as the ground, no furs covering or warming the way from the entrance to the simple cloth roll of a bed. Banners were hung inside the tent, though their colors were faded and their edges worn. A testimony to their years, perhaps. Bard studied the elf before him and said, "For as long as Lake-town has stood there has always been an Elvenking on the throne. That has always been you?"

Thranduil paused in his writing. "My father, ruled in the Second Age but fell during the Battle of the Last Alliance. I have ruled since then," he answered.

"You are ancient," Bard marveled.

Thranduil laughed in reply. "There are beings far more older than I who still reside on Middle Earth."

"Elrond?" Bard asked.

"He is only a few years older than me. Of the elves, Cirdan is the oldest, there is a man who lives between the coast and Rivendell by the name of Tom Bombadil who has resided in that area for time untold. Then there are the Ents," Thranduil said.

Bard scoffed, "Ents are a myth."

"Are they?" Thranduil asked. "In an age or so, I believe people will say that elves are a myth. Just because the numbers dwindled does not mean the race is gone." Thranduil studied the flames in his lanterns for some time. "More of my kind leave each day but our numbers are still quite large. We will not leave these shores until we are ready and that is still some time off yet. With each new century we become more isolated, Elrond being the only one who will never close his borders to the weary traveler. There will come a time when even the doors of that great home will close forever, but this is all talk for another time. Such heavy words at not needed with an uncertain dawn."

Bard nodded. "I thank you for your willingness to answer my question. May you have a good night."

"And you as well," Thranduil replied.

Bard left him to his writings and made his way back to his men. Everyone had placed themselves around the campfire, enjoying the elvish rations of meat and vegetables for dinner. Bard took his share of the food and sat down next to Reeve around the fire.

"That old Elvenking is up to something," Thatcher said, shaking his spoon.

"I know they gave us supplies, but do you think it right to trust them in this battle? Elves can survive what we can't, they say," Old Bookbinder remarked from his place around the fire.

"The elves have seen more war and battle than we have," Reeve said.

"The elves have seen more of everything than we have," Bard replied, "but I do not think they go to war lightly. They live so long, with so much memory, that I think they value life even more than we know."

Old Bookbinder nodded and said, "Lad may have a point there."

Bard smiled and went back to his meal in silent contemplation of all he had learned about elves and dwarves over the past few days.

__________________________________________________________________


	14. 12B

**A Journey Begins…**

_**Chapter Twelve, Part B…On a March**_

_There armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by,_  
-_The Foggy Dew_, version by The Chieftains

No pipe did hum nor battle drum did sound its loud tattoo

But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out through the foggy dew

_October, TA 2941_

_**Lothlorien**_

"I leave you on your own for one conference and you manage to anger both Celeborn and Galadriel," Erestor stated. He threw his arm around Glorfindel's shoulders. "I do not think I have ever been so proud of you, my dear friend."

"For a councilor of a great realm, you have quite the taste for large disagreements," Glorfindel observed.

"I just believe that Imladris should not stand as the only elven realm willing to stick out its neck. As the Elder Race of Arda we have a responsibility to the Free Peoples and I will not have the elves of Lothlorien giving us all a reputation for standing aside when there is a fight to be had," Erestor replied. He removed his arm from Glorfindel's shoulder and went to pour them both some wine.

"Even when it may antagonize our relations with the dwarves?" Glorfindel asked.

"You would think that would be motivation enough for the elves here," Erestor said. He handed Glorfindel his glass. After taking a sip of his own, he said, "I believe, when all causes are presented and weighed, the dwarves of Arda will not come down with a judgment against Imladris. We are too long their ally. If we do send our elves as nothing but a pack of healers to the battleground, they will not be allowed to fault such a thing. We must tend to all the fallen on the field, whether it be elf, dwarf, or man." Erestor paced to the other side of the room. "That does not mean, however, that more aid cannot be given to Mirkwood in the form of advice and political alliances. It would not do to have you lead a march, my friend." He held up a hand at Glorfindel's protest. "You have a way of being noticed, Glorfindel, and it is something you cannot help. You are more of the Blessed Realm than of this one and when you fight, you shine as if the Valar themselves have entered the fray. Your presence will distract them. The men of Lake-town, Thranduil's elves, they need to know that they can fight on their own in this small skirmish. But, if one was to offer aid from inside Thranduil's palace, a gauntlet of quick and smart training perhaps, I do not think an insult could be found there, if I may say so myself."

"Would Berenon accept such aid?" Glorfindel asked. "Would it not be viewed as a lack of faith in his abilities if an elf such as myself entered his home with unlooked for advice?"

Erestor considered this and with a nod of his head said, "Berenon is a sharp elf and knows well the history of our kind. He knows unlooked for advice is not often unwanted. I dare say he could use your presence. Thranduil will leave Tangwen at the palace but he will take Legolas and Tirnion with him on the march. I assume he will leave Balanauth in the palace as well, as our dear friend does not know the land as well as our Woodland kin."

Glorfindel nodded, conceding to Erestor's wisdom. He swirled the wine in his glass. "Eluialeth will want to come."

"And so she shall go," Erestor agreed. "I expect you to guard her as fiercely as you do Morwen. I love my daughters equally, Glorfindel, but Eluialeth is also one of my brightest workers." Erestor walked over to the balcony, gripping the carved wooden railing with his able hands. "As much as it pains me to say this, I think it will be good for her to see what the cost of war brings in terms of life. She has only witnessed small and isolated attacks for all her years on Arda and while as a father I strive to keep her innocent, as the Chief Councilor I cannot do so and let her hold such a position." He sighed. "Sometimes I feel the healing tents are worse than the battleground."

Glorfindel followed him. "It never sits well having elves or men beg for a swift death when they realize their bodies are no longer whole," he agreed. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder with a strong grip. "The elflings we raised are strong, Erestor, and Eluialeth has learned to keep a calm façade in the face of chaos."

"She was so terrified after that first attack on Morwen. This battle has Tirnion as one of its fighters, someone I suspect will become more dear to her over the years."

"She does not know yet her own heart," Glorfindel said. "That may help matters."

"Or make them worse," Erestor argued. "It never does well for a love to be realized when death is imminent."

Glorfindel rested his head on Erestor's other shoulder. "I do hope we never see the likes of the Battle of the Last Alliance again but a shadow has been growing in my mind as the years go on. Despite the work of the wizards, I fear it will only be a temporary solution to a much more serious problem."

"You and I have seen too much of this world," Erestor whispered. "I fear our time on Arda is drawing to a close. Grey ships are in our future."

"They always were," Glorfindel said. "But I think we still have time yet; time enough for you to terrify the next five generations of Men."

"You always know how to cheer up an old friend, Glorfindel," Erestor said. "Now, let us go press our will on Celeborn and Galadriel."

"We have Ellech's backing and I think, in their hearts, Celeborn and Galadriel want to offer aid, just not at the risk to their forces."

Erestor studied the trees and the twilight filtering through its leaves. "By the end we must all risk something; every action has a cost and I fear in the years to come it will be more a time of cost than of reward."

* * *

Morwen sat beside Arwen, brushing out the snarls in Eluialeth's hair. "You are worse than Elladan when it comes to getting twigs in your hair," she chastised.

"May I remind you we are surrounded by massive trees," Eluialeth replied.

"Maybe the trees are trying to get one of their saplings back to Imladris," Arwen said. "Can you imagine my father's face?"she asked.

"He would have an utter fit," Morwen agreed.

"Luckily for Lord Elrond these trees cannot grow in the realm of Imladris," Eluialeth said, tapping the grey tree trunk for emphasis.

"Yet another reason the Golden Wood is lauded over the River Valley," Haldir sneered from the platform above them.

"To the elves of the Golden Wood at least," Eluialeth muttered. She turned back to the book in her lap.

"What are you reading?" Arwen asked. "It is quite slim compared to the volumes I am used to seeing in your hands."

"Mayhap you came home more you would be able to remember the size of the volumes I read," Eluialeth said.

Arwen groaned. "Every single elf of Imladris which passes through must make a comment, why is this?"

"Your father has us trained well," Morwen said.

"We receive strict instruction before we are allowed to ride out," Eluialeth agreed. "But to answer your original question, it is a collection of my father's memories from the battlefields of the First and Second Age. It is very informal in tone, style, and calligraphy which is why it appears so slim. Memories are more important than form in here."

Arwen smiled. "If it is possible, I would much like to read it when you are finished."

Eluialeth held the book out to her. "You may read it now. I've read it often and finished my last re-read last night. It is more of a touchstone these days."

Arwen accepted the book with careful hands. "I thank you, Eluialeth, and I will treat it well."

"As Elrond's daughter I know you are well versed in how to treat a book properly," she said.

"Even if his sons may sometimes forget," Galueth called out as she entered the glade. "I am sorry to interrupt, though not so sorry to have an excuse to escape that gathering of march warden mates I was stuck in. Honestly, you would think it is my fault orcs are attacking the eastern borders." She dropped down beside her sister and began to brush dirt off Eluialeth's dark dress. "Why must you wear such dark clothes with your dark coloring? You would look radiant in something other than dark blue or black."

"I occasionally wear a dark purple, much like our mother," Eluialeth replied.

"No matter," Galueth said, "I think you should try a lighter blue or perhaps a rich forest green."

Morwen dropped Eluialeth's hair to press a hand over her mouth, Arwen mimicking her action, as Eluialeth narrowed her eyes at her older sister.

"Do not think I do not understand what you are implying, sister, and I fear that too much time under these trees has left you with fanciful notions of an idle mind," Eluialeth said. "I am glad to see you again, but if you insist with this talk which borders on idle gossip, I fear I will have to find another groups of elves with which to take my respite."

"I do have a reason for coming," Galueth said. "Morwen, Rilasseth asks that you plead her cause to Celeborn and Galadriel. Something has settled in her mind and she wishes to return home as soon as an escort is able to form."

"Why does she not ask herself? She is royal by marriage."

"She knows you have the ear of both Glorfindel and Erestor and therefore more power to plead her case. She also is not feeling well and has decided to rest for the night." Galueth turned her eyes to the sky. "I fear something unexpected may visit Mirkwood's forces and that is causing Rilasseth to worry. Something in the air has her archer instincts on guard. I have never seen her so tense."

Morwen stood, brushing the leaves off her skirts. "Well, do I look presentable enough?"

"No," Arwen, Eluialeth, and Galueth answered.

Arwen stood, Eluialeth's book grasped in her hands. "Let us leave the two sisters to gossip idly while I prepare you for a meeting with my grandparents. I wish to start Eluialeth's book anyway, and if you depart with the dawn I must complete it before then."

"There is no guarantee I will be going with them," Eluialeth said.

Arwen just shook her head. She nudged Morwen with her shoulder. "Let us go."

Morwen followed Arwen's lead as she knew the pathways of the wood better than any other elf of Imladris.

"I do so dislike having to put on appearance for appearance's sake even if I know it is required by virtue of formality," Morwen mumbled.

"Grandmother will always value ceremony on some things," Arwen agreed. She walked over to Morwen's wardrobe and pulled out her councilor robes.

"Out of all the daughters of all the nobility of all the races on Arda, you are the only one I know who dresses other people," Morwen said. She knew it was best to sit back and let Arwen do as she wanted; it was a trait she inherited in spades from her mother.

"We live to time uncounted and I enjoy putting together a good outfit and appearance for others. It is a requirement for a Lady of the Court to know how to make a good presentation of herself and her household. My mother taught me that lesson from a young age, knowing more of the political intrigues of sewing circles than anything my father, Erestor, or Glorfindel could provide. Mother once said more political decisions were made through the pressing of a powerful elf's bedmate than through a council," Arwen said. She nodded in satisfaction as she pulled out a pair of lightweight boots and a cap for Morwen's hair.

"What exactly are you trying to imply, Arwen?" Morwen asked.

"Nothing in the least," Arwen said. "Now, go get washed up and then we force you into those horrid but necessary robes. We will make you a picture of modesty and humility as my grandparents have not seen in the many months you have dwelled here."

Morwen followed her orders, trying not to grimace at the cold water in the washing bowls. Of the many things in Imladris' favor, the advanced plumbing system was certainly at the top. Clay and copper tubes did not work well, however, for elves who spent their days in trees, so cleansing came either in the cold rain water collected on each level of the trees or from the river and streams in the area.

"This is the only elven realm that forces it guests to wash in cold water," she said.

"You will live, oh pampered councilor," Arwen told her. She walked up behind Morwen and began to brush out her hair. "We do not have much time to get you ready."

"Then I suggest we walk and brush and adjust on the way because you know it takes me much time to navigate the stairways and tree branches." Morwen pulled out of Arwen's grasp long enough to don the new shift and skirt. She took a moment to shake out her body as the familiar weight of the councilor robes settled. Little of her time in Lothlorien had been spent in an official capacity and the fit of the robes seemed almost unfamiliar.

"You look so different with those on," Arwen observed. "Your face becomes more tense and you hold your head higher."

"Political facades being what they are, the robe is the councilor's armor." Morwen let Arwen finish the loose plait of her hair before helping her in putting on the modest cap which covered most of her head.

"Ready?" Arwen asked.

"To face your grandparents as a councilor approaching with an unpopular request? No, of course not, but it is not for my need that this request must be made."

Arwen nodded. "Why is it that the councilors of Imladris seem to be the councilors to all of Arda?" she asked, guiding Morwen out of her chambers and through the twist and turn of tree branches.

"Because your father insists on keeping a sanctuary open even when all other elves close their borders," Morwen answered.

"My father, the upstart," Arwen murmured. She stopped them at the entrance to official hall, pulling Morwen into a hug. "Good luck," she whispered into her hair.

"With such a wish from the Evenstar, I think my task will go much easier," Morwen teased, tugging on a strand of Arwen's hair. "Go rejoin Erestor's daughters. Someone should spend this whole day in enjoyment."

"As the councilor bids," Arwen said, with a cheeky curtsey.

Morwen laughed, watching her as she ran down the tree limbs and staircases in a most informal way. No one would ever dare tell Lady Arwen that her behavior was improper for she was beloved of so many.

She took a deep fortifying breath and entered the platform before the stairs leading up to Galadriel and Celeborn's study. She was surprised to find Rumil on duty.

"You are not at the borders," Morwen observed.

Rumil shrugged. "The Lady and Lord seem content to keep me closer to Caras Galadhon and their home. Do you wish to see them?"

Morwen nodded. "If they are willing to receive a visit from a foreign councilor at this time, yes," she said.

He studied her with a cool gaze. "I did wonder why you were garbed so. Let me go ask their permission. I know you are well versed in the need to stand there and not touch anything but I am still ordered to inform you of such."

She waved him off. "We all have our duty, Rumil, go do yours."

It was not long before Rumil returned, beckoning for her to follow him up the stairs. He held back the heavy tapestry which marked the entrance to the Lord and Lady's study and followed Morwen inside.

"Councilor Morwen of Imladris, what brings you before us in an official capacity?" Lady Galadriel asked.

"I thank you for seeing me," Morwen started, but wasted no time by stating, "Lady Rilasseth wishes to return to her home."

"It is not safe," Lord Celeborn stated.

Morwen nodded in agreement but argued, "She confesses to a fear that something grave will occur if she stays here and does not journey back to Thranduil's palace. She is as safe behind that rock as she is under these trees. If Mithrandir and Curunir made good on their promise of clearing out the forests, and from Mithrandir's words to Lord Glorfindel they have, then it is best if she returns home. The elves of that wood have undergone many changes living under the Shadow, one of those being a period of pregnancy and childbirth full of even more risk. I know she was first brought here for protection, but all the protection in Arda will not save her or her child if her soul is full of warning and her body uneasy."

"Lady Rilasseth sent you here because she is too weak to make the request on her own and yet you think she could make a fast and harsh ride to Thranduil's Halls?" Lady Galadriel asked.

"I think Lady Rilasseth is like all of us who spend time away from our homes. When we know we face a return journey, we find it easier to push forward and carry on. The only thing that will set Lady Rilasseth's mind at ease now is to be by the side of Crown Prince Berenon," Morwen answered.

Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel stared at her in silence for many moments until Lady Galadriel lowered her head in acknowledgment.

"If you are able to secure the permission of Lord Glorfindel to head Lady Rilasseth's escort, and if you will also go in the capacity of protector for her in the name of both Imladris and Lothlorien, then we will concede to Lady Rilasseth's wishes," she decreed.

Morwen bowed low. "Thank you, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, may the Valar continue to bless you with wisdom." With a final nod she took her leave of them and hurried down through the trees to locate Glorfindel.

* * *

Glorfindel leaned against a desk and studied the map Erestor had laid out before him.

"Whoever holds the river will be at an advantage," Erestor observed.

"Yes, but if the dwarves call on their kin it will divide the field of battle," Glorfindel said. "Though, knowing how Thranduil's mind works, there will be more than one front and a few hidden regiments.'

"He does still have one of the most extraordinary minds for battlefield strategies," Erestor agreed. "If only his father would have listened to his words."

"Thranduil learned the hard way that you must expect any and all eventualities." Glorfindel tapped a finger on the map. "When his father fell, so the stories go, Thranduil only paused to gather up his body and drag it back behind the lines. His quick thinking in diverting the troops saved many lives that day. I would wish death on no elf, save a few, and certainly never Oropher, but I do think it is to the Wood Elves benefit that Thranduil has held the crown this past Age and not Oropher."

"And yet, they still hold to many of Oropher's traditions."

"What else do elves who have faced many deaths and many moves have to hold on to if not tradition? Oropher was not a bad fellow but he was as full of pride as any Noldor. I do believe that is why he disliked us so much. If his rash actions on that battlefield that day had resulted in victory, history would be praising him as a quick witted maverick as opposed to an elf who let pride and obstinacy lead him to death."

"Critiquing the scribes again, are we?" Erestor asked.

"There is a certain slant to history, is there not?" Glorfindel asked in return.

"Indeed, there is. But more people learn of our past through the lore and the songs than through what sits in our archives and libraries. There is a reason for that certain slant."

"Penlod often muttered the same complaints," Glorfindel admitted. He turned back to the lists on his temporary desk held down by one of the many Lothlorien paperweights. This one carried the image of the famous mallorn trees. He picked it up and twirled it between his hands. "Some things do stay the same throughout the Ages," he said. "We do so love our trees. We need to help Thranduil's people in being able to walk under their own again."

Erestor smiled. "Then I suggest we finish your roster for the escort and for Arwen's guard once you depart," he said.

"I thought you would be guard enough," Glorfindel said.

"We both know how easily Arwen slips free from my sight," Erestor said.

Glorfindel's reply was cut short from the commotion outside of the doorway. The curtain went flying back as Morwen stormed inside garbed in all her Councilor regalia, a distraught page trailing behind her.

"Councilor Morwen, they are in a meeting," the page cried. "You cannot interrupt them."

Morwen's reply was a dark glare.

Glorfindel held up a hand. "I assure you, Councilor Morwen has earned the right to interrupt any meetings held by myself or Chief Councilor Erestor. She is especially allowed to do this when she has that look on her face or else it means my future days will not be peaceful ones."

"But Haldir said," the page protested

"Haldir of the Golden Wood does not command the practices and policies of the elves of Imladris. It would be best if you did not make yourself a pawn in the eternal battle between Haldir and Morwen," Erestor advised.

"Of course, Chief Councilor Erestor," he said. Giving a brief bow the page departed, straightening the curtain closed behind him.

"That was an impressive entrance," Glorfindel said.

Erestor and Morwen gave him identical bored looks before conducting some sort of silent conversation he had only ever seen councilors hold.

"I take it there is news?" he asked, leaning back against his desk.

Morwen nodded, her eyes meeting his. She spoke in an official tone, "I am to seek approval from you to head up an escort that will take Lady Rilasseth and myself to King Thranduil's Halls. I am then to ask you to stay with us as I aid her in any way she may so require."

"Isn't that an interesting change of orders," Glorfindel said.

"Oh, we all know well how Galadriel is. Once she admits she may have held the incorrect view on something she finds a way to make it seem like it was her good idea all along. Valar forbid she ever admits to being wrong," Erestor grumbled. "Do you have a suggested time for departure?"

"As soon as we are able," Morwen replied.

"With the dawn then," Glorfindel said, "for I have already began the selection and order for an escort. We were to leave here with or without Galadriel's approval."

"Yet another reason why you are a warrior and I am forced to handle diplomacy," Erestor said.

"Were you not just praising me for forcing Galadriel's hand?" Glorfindel asked.

"I was indeed, however, I would not have you riding out of here and insulting her decrees. We both know her acquiescence comes from the words Cirdan far spoke with her. Though how he knew of such events in the Golden Wood is quite the riddle, is it not?" Erestor asked.

"I have no idea what you are implying, Erestor, but I know I do not like that tone. If I may have let slip something about events in this part of Arda while answering Cirdan's inquiries on how Arwen was faring it cannot be blamed on anything other than a long and abiding friendship. I would certainly never suggest that Cirdan let Galadriel know how wrong she was, for that would be undermining her authority in a most painful way of dealing with a chastisement from Cirdan the Shipwright himself."

"Ever the undermining mischief maker you are," Erestor said. "How Turgon did not throw you out of that city I will never know."

Glorfindel's smile was small as he remembered his old king. "Who do you think taught me all those undermining techniques? Despite being a proud ass with a crown and a throne, Turgon was incredibly knowledgeable about the game of politics."

"Shall I go inform Rilasseth of the good news, then?" Morwen asked.

"Yes. You should also pack your essentials. Anything else and I am certain Erestor will hold them for you," he replied.

"It is my destiny in life to be buried under paper, parchment, and vellum," Erestor lamented. "I will do as Glorfindel says, you may go," he dismissed Morwen with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder.

Glorfindel and Erestor stood in companionable silence until she cleared the doorway.

"When you take Eluialeth with you on this journey, please do not let her threaten anymore violence than necessary against Thranduil's elves," Erestor said.

"I make no promises," Glorfindel said. He rolled up the map on the desk. "Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to unload my pack. It seems as if I spend all my days riding from one end of Arda to the other."

"My friend, you would not know what to do with your hours if you spent all of the years of your life in the same place. If you did not hold such a connection to Elrond's home, I swear you'd be off with Gildor's people."

"After some of the twins more memorable tantrums, I will admit to have pondered such a life," Glorfindel said. He threw an arm over Erestor's shoulder. "Come with me, my dear Chief Councilor, and I will foist off the various papers I've yet to read or respond to into your capable hands."

Erestor shook his head and laughed. "I was feeling far too idle in my time here," he replied.

* * *

Morwen hurried around her quarters in one final check through of her packs. Galueth was aiding Eluialeth in her own packing, while Morwen served as Arwen's afternoon entertainment. Arwen sat nestled against one of the tree limbs with an ever-widening grin on her face.

"Only weeks spent in residence and I wonder how I have managed to acquire this many papers and ledgers," Morwen said. She looked on in despair as she took in her small packs and the piles upon piles of notes, letters, and books. She'd already set aside three stacks for Erestor but she was at a loss over what to do with all the other documents. .

Arwen shook her head. She walked over to the bed and took in all the stacks of paper with an arched eyebrow. Turning to Morwen she said, "I think it is best that you do not dwell here longer. And to think, you claimed to dislike the archives here."

"They are woefully lacking on some subjects," Morwen argued.

"Clearly not all of them," Arwen said, picking up a hefty bundled stack of parchment. "I can take some of these into my care, if you so desire. Send them back with all my letters to Father."

"Would you?"

"I could never part you from your notations," Arwen answered. She sat down on the bed, reaching a hand out to steady one of their stacks. "Are you certain you will have no need for any of this in King Thranduil's home?"

"Some of these," Morwen paused and walked to the other side of the room. She held up a stack with a triumphant smile. "As I was saying, some of these do contain interesting theories about herbs native to the area of Lake-town which serve well in quickly made salves for burns and sores. We may be in need of that. There was also some old survey maps of mining areas that might come into good use as Thranduil expands his caves."

Arwen shuddered. "I do not think I could live underground," she confessed.

"So says an elf who spends much of her time in trees," Morwen teased.

Arwen tilted her head back in a graceful manner. "Be it Imladris or Lothlorien, it is always in the open air," she said.

Morwen walked over to her and tugged on a strand of her hair. "There are many parts of Thranduil's home open to the air and the trees. He does so love his forest and the trees who have survived the Shadow love him in return. I do not think he could be without them for very long. Thranduil may not be of the Silvan by birth, but he is one by heart," she said.

"And the Silvan live in trees," Arwen reminded her.

"Not in Mirkwood," Morwen said. "Not anymore. Be it ground or tree, it is no longer safe to live anywhere that is not behind doors which open and close at the Elvenking's command."

"One day they may return to their natural homes," Arwen said. "I am hopeful of that. Dawn comes after the night, as we know."

Morwen rested her head on Arwen's shoulder. "Yet there is always another night," she said.

"And always another dawn," Arwen countered. "And always those willing to fight for us; be it through words or wars or both."

She nudged Arwen's side. "Always the wise words with your family," she said. "Now, go on and finish Eluialeth's book like you promised. No need to spend your time watching me go through all the detritus."

"If you insist," she said. She stood up and tapped Morwen on the nose. "Leave whatever you want me to send back to Imladris on the desk. I promise it will arrive with all the respect shown to my correspondence." Arwen leaned down and hugged her. "You better see me before you ride off with that escort. I require a fare well."

Morwen smiled. "As the Lady of Imladris bids," she said. She waved Arwen away. "Go, young elfling, enjoy a life not so weighed down by the rights and duties of Councillorship."

"You would not enjoy any other lot in life," Arwen promised. She gave Morwen one last hug before taking the exit route of the tree limbs.

Morwen looked around her room. "I need to learn how to write more in less space," she muttered to the air.

* * *

Arwen stopped at the threshold to her room, sensing a familiar presence on the other side.

"You taught Elladan how to lurk outside doorways, did you not?" she asked, entering her room and spotting Glorfindel at her desk.

"If I taught your brother how to do such a thing, you never would have found him," he said. "I am here to officially inform you of my departure at dawn. I am leading an escort to Thranduil's Halls, as I am sure you know by now."

"I was under the impression my Grandmother was not willing to allow such a thing," she said. She sat down in her desk chair and tilted her head up at him. "What caused the change?"

Glorfindel smiled down at her. "Your mother used that same technique; innocent inquiry matched with a defiant gaze. You may assume a submissive position but you give a demanding look. I did not know she taught it to you."

"Of course she did, I am her daughter. Now, will you answer my question?"

He laughed. "And as verbally demanding as your father. Arwen, my child, you are a gift." He reached out a hand to ruffle her hair. "I will concede to your demand. Cirdan had a vision and he is the one entity on Arda Galadriel will always defer to. He does have the tendency to make the oldest and wisest among us come to a heel. And whether or not Galadriel wants to admit it, she cannot deny the request of the Crown Prince's wife to return to her home. Not when there are greater things at stake. Despite his reputation, few have witnessed the true wrath of King Thranduil and Galadriel is one of the few who remember just how much power is in his spirit."

"Truly?" she asked.

"There is much about the Sindar unknown to the Noldor and even more about the Silvan for we came into their lands and tried to tell them that their ways were unlearned and unrefined. Noldor gain their power through knowledge; we have a knack for learning and creation. The Sindar, at least those straight down from the Teleri, know the sea. The Silvan, however, pull power from the very earth and Thranduil, while Sindar by birth has spent an Age ruling the Silvan and even longer cultivating his own skills. That elf could bring down a mountain with his wrath and I do not mean that as an expression," Glorfindel said, eyes on the horizon.

"If that is true, then why does he not end this battle with one swift blow?" Arwen asked.

He turned his gaze back to her. "Because the cost would be too great and even Thranduil recognizes the need for allies. As your father often says, 'Just because you can, does not mean you should.' It is a lesson the elves who lived through the Second Age learned most painfully," Glorfindel answered.

Arwen smiled at Glorfindel and gave his face an affectionate pat. "May I go with you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "You know I cannot allow that, Arwen. It will be a dangerous journey as is and with a war brewing, I cannot remove you from the protection of your mother's home."

"I am a liability," she said. She felt her jaw clench at the familiar tightening of her royal bonds.

Glorfindel gripped her shoulder. "I know it frustrates you, but the way to Mirkwood is not safe, even with the wizards clearing the forest. Things have a tendency to linger there." He paused for a moment. "I will ask your father's permission for your attendance to Balanauth's wedding. There will be enough time for me to properly assign and outfit a guard."

"Promise?" Arwen asked.

"Of course," he assured her.

She stood and pulled him into a hug. "I know none of us revel in the bonds and boundaries you place on us all, and I know you do it for our safety, but I have lived all these many years on Arda and have not laid eyes on that Elvenhome."

"There are elves much older than you who have never walked among those trees or through those stone doors. There are elves who will never see it, and that number increases with each day, but I promise you, you will one day see all the wonders of Thranduil's home. He would be eager to receive you."

Arwen took in a deep breath, holding Glorfindel's familiar scent which always meant safety and her father's home close to her chest. "You will watch over them, Eluialeth and Morwen, yes?"

"With all that is in me," he answered.

"Do not forget to watch over yourself," she scolded.

Glorfindel laughed again, the melodious sound making her smile.

"I shall do as you command," he said.

* * *

Arwen stood hidden in the trees as she watched the escort ride out with the morning. A few elves of the Golden Wood rode with them, but they would drop off as the party approached the boundaries of Mirkwood. The rest of the company was comprised of elves from Mirkwood and Imladris, with a few members of the Wandering Company who had decided to linger under the trees for some time. She watched them all ride out, her eyes resting on each member of the party, each beloved face and cunning smile, before turning away. One day soon she would ride in an escort leaving the Golden Wood. One day soon she would take that journey home to the running water and brisk air of Imladris. Not this day, not in the coming years, but she did feel the need for her father's home more keenly in her spirit than ever before. The world was changing, much more quickly than any elf could know or comprehend, but Arwen could feel it and knew, deep inside her mind, the events of this battle would set in motion even more important things.

"Be safe," she whispered to the wind.


	15. 12C

**A Journey Begins…**

_**Chapter Twelve, Part C…On a March**_

_There armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by,_  
-_The Foggy Dew_, version by The Chieftains

No pipe did hum nor battle drum did sound its loud tattoo

But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out through the foggy dew

_October, TA 2941_

_**Imladris**_

Elrohir rubbed at this face, still feeling the grit of sea salt and road dust sticking to his skin. He had only done a quick wash and allowed himself an hour of drowsing before seeking out his father. Cirdan had charged him with a message and Elrohir was eager to seek out Erestor for his own reasons. Erestor, for all his faults, had always been the one Elrohir went to when he needed an honest opinion. He was aware there might be a disagreement in the next few minutes, since his father had recalled him home for the safety of Estel, but he was prepared to use any and all of his skills and tactics in gaining his compliance.

He threw a quick glance to the looking glass his mother ordered placed in his room ages ago. He did not appear to be the youthful and carefree elf he often took pains to project. He looked as wrought out as he felt, with tangles in his loose hair and stubble on his chin. He rubbed at his face again and sighed. There would be time enough to clean up his appearance on the road.

Elrohir left his room and hurried down the hallway, up a stairway, and through another wing of the house to one of his father's personal studies. It was the one he often went to after the midday council was over.

Baineth stood guard at the door, looking uncomfortable being inside the royal quarters. Elrohir plastered a smile on his face for her.

"Is he receiving guests?" he asked.

She shrugged and tightened the grip on her spear. "He did not say if he was or not, just that he was very confused why I was being stationed outside his door bearing arms and that if one of his children should wander by, to let them in."

"Why _are_ you standing guard outside his door?" he asked.

Baineth shook her head and gave him an aggrieved look. "Because Thandrog had the combined fear of Glorfindel and Erestor put in him and is worried that if Elrond so much as gets a paper cut while our Seneschal and Chief Councilor are out wandering the world that Thandrog's life will be forfeit," she said.

"He must know Glorfindel would never actually kill him," Elrohir scoffed.

"The Captain might not," she said, "but Erestor is a whole other matter."

Elrohir laughed. "This is unfortunately true. Be off, Baineth, I am certain you have better things to do and my father is more than capable of taking care of himself. Besides that, he can bellow if needs be. He bellows loudly."

"I well recall," she said. "The story of your desecration of that statue of Varda is known throughout the lands. I hear the mortals in the village have a cautionary tale based off the loud bellows of Elrond that day."

Elrohir narrowed his eyes. "We do not speak of that near his presence," he said gesturing to the door. "If Thandrog gives you trouble, just say it was be royal decree that you were ordered to go practice for the Autumnal Tournaments. We can't be losing to those Dunedain again this year," he said.

"Noted," Baineth agreed. She left with a nod and a mock salute.

He shook his head. Too many patrols with Baineth had left her distinctly lacking in respect to his station. Then again, that was always Glorfindel's intention. He did not care what station you were born to, any and every person was dear to someone else and they were all warriors. It was difficult for Elladan and Elrohir on that first march out, going from a warm home where everyone deferred to their wishes and turned a blind eye to their antics, to becoming just another soldier on the march. It was even more difficult having their Glorfindel, their constant teacher and minder, turned into their Captain who would not indulge their tomfoolery if it put anyone else at risk. It was the lesson their father had tried to teach them every time he made them do the work of the stable hands or the laundry maids and which was finally, effectively, taught by Glorfindel. They would always be the Sons of Elrond, Lord Elrond's Sons, Grandsons of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, of Elwing the White and Earendil the Mariner, but Glorfindel made certain when it came time to fight they would be respected based on their own skills and reputations.

Despite all that preparation, it still took a mustering of Elrohir's courage to approach his father with a possible unpopular decision.

Elrohir knocked once and opened the door when he was bid.

Elrond still wore his robes of state, those his hair fell loose down his back. He held a stack of papers in one hand, while the other held a book, and stood in front of one of his numerous bookshelves.

"Father," Elrohir said by way of greeting.

Elrond looked up and smiled. The movement caused the slight lines of his face to crinkle. He placed down his papers and book and came over to him, pulling him in a brief embrace. Moving back he said, "Elrohir, it is always good to see you, my son. Rested are you?"

Elrohir smiled back, watching his father move over to his desk and picking another stack of papers up. "Well enough by way of a brief rest," he answered. Taking a deep breath he said, "Father, I fear…"

"Your presence will be required to aid Thranduil's forces in the healing of their injured," Elrond interrupted before he could get any further. "I need you and your brother to set out with the dawn and not let up for any matter. You will use two of the five new horses we recently acquired from Rohan in a trade for our fabrics and medicines. You may or may not need to feed the horses something extra though, as I promised Thandrog, I would never openly encourage you to do such. You must take the safest and quickest paths there. In fact, if you set out this evening I would not protest." Elrond looked up from his correspondence. "Was there anything you needed to tell me?"

"I need to deliver a message to Erestor from Cirdan," Elrohir said, utterly bewildered.

Elrond clapped his hands. "Oh, that works out splendidly," he said. "You may take a detour through your Grandmother's realm first. It will also give you a chance to gain some additional supplies. They will have much fresher elanor for your stores." He pulled out a map from one of the piles of his desk. " I suggest you stop off at Thranduil's palace before proceeding to the battlefield though. It is much more proper to offer your aid first than show up to a fight uninvited." Elrond shifted through another stack of parchment and vellum. He plucked out a letter and brought it over to Elrohir. "Do give this to your sister for me. It is from one of her former suitors and I fear I can no longer delay its distribution as it has been five years past and he has just departed for the Blessed Realm."

Elrohir accepted the letter with narrowed eyes. He twirled it in his fingers. "Did Mother have any idea how devious you can be before she married you?" he asked.

"If not, she certainly found out afterwards," he answered, clasping Elrohir on his shoulder.

"Where is Elladan?" Elrohir asked. "I have not seen him yet."

"If I was to venture I guess I would say debating over what to put in his pack and deciding just want to raid out of the healing stores," Elrond said.

Elrohir closed his eyes and sighed. Elladan had a good enough grasp of battlefield healing but he was an absolute menace to the organization of the healing stores. "I should go stop him," he said.

"I would be very appreciative if you did so," Elrond agreed. He pulled Elrohir into another embrace. "I would not ask this of you if I did not think it necessary. I know you are tired and that something weighs on your mind you cannot or will not share with me. I respect your need to keep it to yourself, but do not let it fester, Elrohir. Out of all the things I have helped create in this world, you children are my proudest achievement and I would have none of you in despair," he whispered fiercely, grasping Elrohir's head in a strong hold.

Elrohir leaned into his father's touch, letting his strength ease the burden for just this moment, he shuddered. "We know you are always behind us, Father, and with that we find great strength. Outside of Glorfindel, Elladan and I are your fastest riders and certainly your fastest riding healers. We cannot let our allies suffer when we have aid to offer," he said.

* * *

Elrohir felt his body tighten as they passed through the Misty Mountains, skirting the area of their mother's attack. He spared a glance to his brother, noting Elladan's hunched posture and clenched jaw. He wore riding gloves on his hand, Rian's influence showing, but Elrohir knew under them his knuckles were as white as Elrohir's own.

"Elladan?" he asked.

"Please let us not speak as we ride through this horrid place. If we keep on and don't waste our breath or time with poor platitudes, we should clear it by night," he replied.

Elrohir nodded. "As you wish," he murmured. He turned his gaze straight ahead, staring only at the road in front of them and not the winding and wary mountain paths to the side. One, he knew, led further and further down to a cave once filled with orcs. A cave he, his brother, and his father had razed to the ground. A cave whose entrance was forever blocked by stones, put in place by Mithrandir at their father's request. A cave which had changed his family forever.

This path through the mountains never grew easier in its passing. He much preferred taking the way farther to the north or south than this route. Still, it remained the fastest way to Lothlorien and they were riding against time.

Elrohir let his other senses guard and guide him. He would not lose himself or his brother to this path, but he still forced his eyes ahead, lest any straggling temptation of an orc forced him to chase after his never abating revenge just one more time.

"Never again," Elladan muttered from his side.

"Pardon?" Elrohir asked.

Elladan kept his gaze steady to the horizon. "Never again will these mountains try to take my family or the ones I love. We've paid enough of a blood price to this rock."

Elrohir nodded. "Never again," he agreed.

They rode on in silence.

* * *

"If we took the High Pass we'd be a day away from Thranduil's Halls by now," Elladan gripped from his bedroll.

"You know as well as I that if we passed over these mountains and did not pay our respects to our grandparents and sister that we would never hear the end of it," Elrohir said. He watched the horses in the distance as they took their own rest near a small pool. "Besides which, I need to see Erestor."

"Can your visit to Erestor not wait until after we offer our aid to the Woodland elves?"

"No," Elrohir answered. He flung out his own roll over the sounds of his twin's gripping.

"How will you feel if this little detour of hours means that lives our lost during Mirkwood's battle? Will your visit to Erestor be so pressing then?" Elladan asked. He twiddled a knife between his fingers, his movements becoming shorter and jerkier with each new turn.

Elrohir threw a twig at his head, ignoring his squawk. "If the healers of Mirkwood cannot keep their wounded alive for the two days it will take us to travel from Lothlorien's borders to Thranduil's Halls than those wounded were not meant to survive. Besides which, we do not know when or where the battle will officially start, news which might be easier to gain from Grandmother than Thranduil's elves who still largely distrust the members of a foreign royal family."

"You know, we are their distant relatives through Grandfather. And their King comes from Doriath. You would think they would feel more akin to us," Elladan said.

"They let us into their realm this past Age without threatening imprisonment or death, I would say that is as close to akin as they come. The wounds of the Last Alliance fester on."

Elladan put his knife down. He said, "And it all is coming up again. Do you think it has anything to do with-"

"Elladan, you know better than to speak such things here where bird and stone and mountain have ears. The heir to Isildur was lost long ago. There is no need to speak of the possibility of his existence in this long forsaken land."

Elladan huffed and tried to squeeze his pack in to a more comfortable position for his head. "I do not know why you have to see Erestor nor why you refuse to tell me."

"Perhaps for the same reason you neglected to tell me you had Arwen fashioning a very particular garment for you? One that is reported to be used only in the proposal of a formal engagement for marriage," he said.

"How did you know about that?" Elladan asked, incredulous, sitting up in a quick fashion.

Elrohir glanced at him with a blank face. "I have my ways," he said. "You also should have told Morwen. She's yet to figure out the meaning behind the design, but with the elven libraries of Arda at hand I assure you she will figure it out soon."

"I am sorry you are offended I did not consult you on the wish to propose to my beloved," Elladan sneered.

Elrohir shook his head. He cursed the mountains they took their rest beside, knowing their own anger and anxiety of this place fed their argument. "I do not wish you ill, my brother, and in all honesty am delighted you have finally decided to take this step with Rian, but I am hurt you told our sister before telling me. I am your twin, Elladan, and though we have started down divergent paths we still take the same road home. It would have been nice to know you have already made your choice while I still ponder over mine. Such things should not be revealed second-hand and through a trifle of a letter from Arwen."

Elladan stood up and rested his chin on Elrohir's shoulder. "I did not mean for you to learn that way. Arwen must have assumed you already knew. You were off in the Havens and I did not want to tell you in a letter."

"You've been thinking about it for years though. Why the sudden need for its conformation now?" Elrohir asked.

"I do not know," Elladan answered. "Something in the air just tells me a change is coming and that it is best if I do this now. I think as our charge gets older we will spend more time away from home and that I want Rian to know I leave her behind because of necessity and duty, but I leave her behind with my promise and my love."

"She already knows that," Elrohir admonished.

"But soon everyone in Imladris, and every elf, man, and dwarf who pays attention to the movements of elven society will know." Elladan grew quiet. "Are you honestly still contemplating a mortal life?" he asked in a whisper.

Elrohir nodded. "I have my moments where it seems the more desirable of the two and yet I feel such a pull towards our family and such a desire to meet our ancestors that I also lean to our immortal side. I too feel the change and know the choice must be made soon. I do not want to fall in battle and die, not knowing if my indecision has left me with a mortal death or the chance for an elven re-birth," he responded. "As father always tells us, it never does to dawdle. I've spent so many centuries of my live here and I do not know if I can so easily cast all the rest of my years aside for something that may or may not come on Arda."

"That is why you wish to speak with Erestor, is it not?"

"Yes. Out of all the wise people we know, he will give me the most truthful and unbiased opinion. Glorfindel's advice will be clouded with the experiences of his own death and re-birth, our father will most assuredly push for an elven life, as will our grandparents. I'm hard pressed to believe that Cirdan is not one of the Maiar and am certain he will also call for an elven life. I need someone who will present both sides of the decision clearly and without the trappings of sentimentality. Erestor knows how to do that, and will do that, despite what his own heart might tell him. There is a reason he is father's Chief Councilor after all."

"I swore once I would stand by any choice you make and to that I still hold," Elladan said, embracing his brother. "Now, let us drowse for a few hours in this place. I fear we will not truly sleep for some time."

"Not until we are out of the mountains' side, at least," Elrohir agreed. He squeezed his brother's shoulders and Elladan moved back to his own pack. Elrohir went back to his own pack, removing a few precious silver and crystal needles that were wrapped up in one of his shirts. They were instruments of elven healers only used in the most extreme cases. They were not often seen on battlefields as they were so easy to lose or break and a prime item for a thief. He mentally took an inventory of their herbs and salves.

"If we find some coltsfoot on the way we should harvest it. Mortal battlefields in autumn seem to breed coughs for some reason," he called out to Elladan. "We should also collect more horsetail and some stinging nettle just in case."

"You know stinging nettle can be hard to find this time of year, but I shall stay on the lookout," he answered. "Get some rest, Elrohir, we have a hard ride ahead of us."

Elrohir shrugged and laid down, doing his best to ignore the hard rock under him. So was there lot in life. In times like these you could not give into the stiffness of your body, the weariness of your bones, or the less than homely feeling of your surroundings. There were things much more important than your own comfort out there and Elrohir, at least, was proud that he learned such a lesson and could pass it on to their little Estel. He wondered how long it would be before Estel would take such a journey on his own, as was the way of the Dunedain.

* * *

Passing into Caras Galadhon was always an interesting task, especially when they had to navigate horses up the narrow and winding paths. There were many ways to enter, many paths to take depending on the size and members of a traveling party, but each way was full of its own narrow footpaths and treacherous problems. There was a good reason most of the march wardens ran through the trees instead.

Elrohir huffed, "I do not know why they insist on us marching all the way to Caras Galadhon when the know we have horses with us."

"Grandmother is sadistic," Elladan answered, "as you may recall I have been telling you this for years."

"If you are so worried about time, perhaps you should walk quicker, Sons of Elrond," Orophin called from the tree above them.

"What are you doing? Taking Haldir's place in the field of sneering comments for tired visitors?" Elrohir asked.

"By all rights, I could order you to come down here and pull these horses," Elladan reminded him. "However, considering how slight of a wood elf you are, I am afraid the horses would pull you."

"Sadly, we cannot all be one of the broad-shouldered Noldor," Orophin replied. "Shall I escort you to the Lord and Lady."

"We know well the way," Elladan said with a glare.

"Please return to your duty and give Galueth our greetings. We are passing through and I doubt we will even spend the night here," Elrohir said.

"Fair enough," Orophin called. "I wish the speed of the winds to you on this journey and that your tasks go well and with little heartache." He gave them a final nod and then disappeared into the treetops.

"I eagerly await the day when he has children so we can mock him as Erestor bully's him over the child's future education," Elladan said.

"As long as you are not in the birthing room to faint," Elrohir agreed. He looked up from the base of the massive mallorn in front of them. Turning to his brother he said, "As the eldest child of our father, I do believe it is your duty to seek out our grandparents and offer them good tidings and news from the West."

"And while I am earning our grandparent's wrath by explaining that we are only passing through, what will you be doing?" Elladan asked.

"Speaking with Erestor, of course."

"I heartily dislike you sometimes," Elladan cursed.

"Ah," Elrohir said, tapping a finger on his brother's nose, "Until you remember I am one of the few people who truly understands you."

"This is true," Elladan agreed. He took a deep breath and held out his closed fist to his brother. "For bravery," he said.

"And fortification," Elrohir continued, echoing his twin's action and knocking their knuckles together.

He watched Elladan make the march to their grandparent's talan with a proud and strong back. He tied patted the horses and let them know they were free to graze. Turning to the page that had appeared behind him, Elrohir said, "Do you happen to know where Chief Councilor Erestor is taking his respite?"

"Yes, Your Highness, I can take you there if you like?" he asked.

"Please do."

He followed the page down into the meadows, spying Erestor with a book in one hand and a ledger by his side.

"Never one for rest, that one," the page said.

"You are quite correct," he agreed, patting the page on the shoulder as he approached Erestor.

"Out of all the elves I thought I'd see in my rest here, I did not think you would be one of them, Elrohir," Erestor said while he continued with his notations.

"My brother and I ever seek to surprise the Peoples of Arda," he said.

"And to that you succeed," Erestor said. "What brings you here?"

Elrohir crossed an arm over his chest. He glanced down at Erestor. "We are to aid in the healing of Thranduil's injured," he replied.

Erestor raised a brow. "A tad out of your way, aren't you?" he asked.

Elrohir smirked. "I also seek your advice," he admitted.

Erestor sighed. "And I assume it could not wait?"

He nodded. "I felt it could not. I also bring a message from Cirdan and we need to gather some elanor for the stores."

Erestor huffed, "It amazes me people say that I do not know to be idle when elves like you exist in this world."

"I have a travelers' heart and a wander's soul," Elrohir agreed with just a hint of mocking. He pulled a small letter from his pack. "From Cirdan," he said, holding the letter out to Erestor.

Erestor broke the first seal only to shake his head when a second seal was revealed. "Cirdan, ever the watchful," he muttered, unfolding the letter. "Of course, of course he wrote it in special ink," he said, waving what appeared to be a blank letter about. "Do you remember how we identify the special inks, Elrohir?"

Elrohir dropped his pack and sat down. "Father always tries different light sources first. Glorfindel is a fan of dabbing the page and tasting the possible ink below. You, as I recall, were always more of a fan of sniffing."

"Yes," Erestor agreed, "Glorfindel is not familiar enough with all the different ink smells to discern one from the other. Your father certainly is, but he is much more interested in runes. This smells like what?" Erestor asked, holding out the letter.

Elrohir took a brief whiff and sneezed. "It smells like a root cellar," he said.

"Onions, to be exact," Erestor replied. "I'll have to find a flame to hold it over later." He put the letter inside his book. "Now, what is it you wish to discuss with me?"

Elrohir sighed. He worried his lower lip between his teeth and tapped his fingers against his leg.

"You're fidgeting, Elrohir," Erestor admonished.

"I know," he replied. "I think I am ready to make my choice, but I am having some doubts as to whether or not it is the right choice."

Erestor nodded. "Whatever choice you make there will be some regret for the one you decided not to take. I cannot tell you which one is best or right, for that is only for you to decide. There will be consequences and rewards either way." He paused. "Is there a reason why you feel this choice must be made soon?"

"I just feel like I must," Elrohir said. "I know what you speak is the truth, and quite obvious to be sure, but it still feels better coming from the mouth of another. We will talk more on this, I hope, when there is more time and not so many eager ears about."

"My door is forever open to you," Erestor said. . He stood and patted Elrohir's head. "You will be safe out there. No giving Glorfindel any more reason to worry."

"Glorfindel lives for the worry," he replied. "I must go gather my twin. I would not have us linger here any longer than necessary."

"It's quite a detour you took for a few words of reassurance," Erestor said.

"Worth every bit of road dust and horse burn," he said, grabbing up his pack. "Please keep Arwen entertained, she becomes dangerous when bored."

"I well remember being left alone with her and her ribbons," Erestor muttered. "I will be on my best watch. Safe passage on your travels, Elrohir."

"May a light shine on our next meeting," he said in reply.

* * *

There was a clacking of clay and pewter bottles as Elladan swung his pack onto his shoulders. They were both weighed down with various salve and unguents from the Lothlorien healers. Galadriel and Celeborn had not given their direct approval of their actions, but that knew that when it came to the arts and duties of a healer, no one had a higher say than Elrond Halfelven. If he declared that Mirkwood needed healers of Imladris, then healers of Imladris were to go to Mirkwood.

"Grandmother is going to hold this over all our heads for centuries to come," Elladan said. He settled on his horse. "She's planning something and whatever it is I feel it will be in direct contradiction to Father's wishes."

"Each thinks the other knows better and we have often come between their power squabbles, but I think they are both starting to realize that sometimes it really is not about them," Elrohir agreed. "For once a battle involving elves is being fought and it has nothing to do with Grandmother or Father's forces. This far out they are nothing but myth." He mounted his own mare, patting her mane and breathing in the crisp air. "I think we shall soon become irrelevant in these lands. Nothing but the characters told in tales to children with wild imaginations. Already the people out here thinks us magical and strange folk. I do wonder what this wood will be like an age or two ages from now."

"Though now it is not the time to ponder. We have at least another day's hard ride before reaching Thranduil's halls. They've moved their camp more than once, so we really must speak with Berenon or Tangwen to find out just where Thranduil planted the healing tents."

"Then we should be off," Elrohir agreed. He gave his twin a sly smile. "Did you get your tunic from Arwen?" he asked.

"I did," Elladan huffed. "I do not wish for it to be damaged so she is sending it back to Imladris with Erestor."

"A winter engagement then?"

Elladan nodded. "If this war does not last too long and Rian is agreeable, I am certainly hopeful there will be much to celebrate at the winter festival."

Elrohir took the reins in his hand. "The wind is with us, we have a clear sky, I think all will turn out well for us," he said.

"It can be as contrary as it wants to be," Elladan said, "as long as it ends well." He kicked his horse into a fast pace and rode off in the direction of the Elven Path of Mirkwood.

Elrohir shook his head in amusement and followed his twin's lead. They had soldiers to heal and no time to waste.


End file.
